Within These Walls
by Sara Holmes
Summary: SF/DM. Torture, rebellion, war and Draco Malfoy. Seamus won't even know where to start telling this story if they all make it out the other side. Written for the HP Rarefest over on Livejournal.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Within these walls  
**Prompt:** "Seventh year. The real one."  
**Pairing(s):** Draco/Seamus  
**Word Count/Art Medium:** 24,400 in 4 parts  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Warning(s):** Swearing, some violence/torture; set during the reign of the Carrows, which should give you some idea.  
**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
**Notes:** Thank you to S and E for kicking me and this story into shape. Couldn't have done it without you 3  
**Summary: **Torture, rebellion, war and Draco bloody Malfoy. Seamus won't even know where to start telling this story if they all make it out the other side.

**Repost notes: **This was written for the hprarefest on livejournal, in which we had to write a story based around a 'rare' pairing - one not commonly seen in fandom, or a pairing that doesn't have a fest of it's own. I'm still not entirely sure how these two jumped into my head, but they did and this is what we ended up with. This story is perhaps the one that I am most proud of, out of everything I've written. Thank you to anyone who gives it a chance and doesn't run screaming when they see it's not H/D.

There will be four parts, I'll post them when internet allows.

* * *

**Within these walls**

All he can hear is the sound of his rough breathing, his heart pounding in his ears as his heart pleads for him to stop running. His footsteps slap against the flagstones beneath his feet and he knows if he can just reach the third floor staircase he can disappear through the tapestry and get away-

"Get back here you miserable Irish runt!" a voice behind him hollers, and a jet of light streaks over his shoulder and hits a suit of armour in front of him, sending it crashing and clanging to the floor. Seamus vaults a breastplate and a gauntlet and keeps on running, staggering slightly as he lands.

"Crucio!"

That one misses as well and Seamus laughs breathlessly and hysterically, ignoring the screaming stitch in his side as he pushes himself to _just keep going. _

He skids around a corner and has a glorious moment of thinking he's gotten away with it when he careers straight into a body that is blocking his way. He hits them so hard he falls back, winded and dazed.

"Sir, I've got him!" Vincent Crabbe shouts, and then turns a grin on Seamus who is trying to scramble away, flailing across the floor and scuffing his elbows. Crabbe draws his wand and Seamus freezes in place, cursing his stupid Irish luck which doesn't seem to ever last as long as he needs it to. Crabbe steps forwards, a well-used gesture that makes the lower-years tremble in anticipation of cruelty.

Seamus isn't scared, and frankly, he has no intention of ever acting like he's scared. "Fancy seeing you here," he says brightly, a winning smile in place. Crabbe's face twists in a scowl because for as stupid as he is, he knows when Seamus is taking the piss. Seamus manages to keep smiling as Crabbe points his wand at his face, all the while vaguely thinking that this is really going to hurt.

* * *

Hidden behind the edge of the desk, Seamus lifts his hand from his lap and holds it as still as he can, watching carefully. It trembles ever so slightly, and then his thumb twitches, an involuntary movement that he can neither predict nor quell.

"What's wrong?" Neville mutters next to him, eyes concerned.

Seamus nods at his hand and Neville watches as his thumb twitches again. "The Crucio twitch," he murmurs, and Neville goes pale. He swallows thickly.

"Maybe you should stop winding them up in class."

Seamus balls his hand into a fist and lowers it. "My quill hand is still fine," he says offhandedly, just before the room falls silent, heralding the arrival of Alecto Carrow.

Seamus flexes his fingers and gazes up across the room, avoiding looking at the Death Eater that is standing at the front of the room, masquerading as a teacher. Sat straight opposite in his direct line of sight is Draco Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy is staring right at Seamus.

Seamus stares back and his first instinct is to flip two fingers at Malfoy – stupid fucking Death Eater scum – but then Malfoy's head jerks ever so slightly and he doesn't-quite-blink and Seamus forgets all about slinging insults across the room.

Malfoy flushes and looks down at the table, an ugly pink flush blotching his cheekbones. Seamus eyes him curiously, just waiting. Malfoy looks sick, Seamus thinks after a moment. He's not at all the smug, cock-of-the-walk bully that Seamus expected to encounter on returning to school. Malfoy looks pale and wasted and like he's about to throw up.

Pale eyes lift hesitantly and then dart away as they see Seamus is still watching. Malfoy lowers his head even further so he's looking down at his lap and then his head jerks again, a quick unconscious movement that is barely there at all.

To Seamus it looks like either Malfoy is going to have a panic attack, or he's got his very own twitch. And that is an interesting thought indeed.

* * *

The oppressive silence stretches out leisurely as they wait, as if they've still got all the time in the word. The still is only broken by an occasional cough or the creak of a chair, or the rumble of Seamus's stomach. He ignores it and stares blankly towards the front of the classroom, half-heartedly wishing that he could remember to get into trouble _after_he's eaten.

There are thirteen of them in detention today, including three third years and a pair of Slytherins. Seamus vaguely hopes that he doesn't have to write anything because his twitch has decided that his quill hand is just as good a place to be as his other. And not to mention that if he's forced to write another essay on how stupid Muggles are, he's going to kick off big-style.

"I don't want to."

A voice outside the classroom breaks the silence. Seamus catches Neville's eye at the raised and angry tones. The other students that are in detention turn their heads to the sound of the commotion, mild curiosity and some trepidation written across their faces.

"You will," a voice snarls, and several of the younger students instantly straighten up in their seats at the sound of it, facing back towards the front of the room.

"I don't want to," the petulant voice repeats, and Seamus glances at Neville again as he realises who it is. "You can't make me," the voice adds, and there's a slight tremble to it.

_"Malfoy?"_Seamus mouths at Neville. Neville nods, frowning and listening hard.

"You will do it, or you'll join them."

"Then you won't have anyone to watch them," Malfoy says defiantly, but he sounds more seven-year-old tantrum than brave.

"I'll ask Crabbe. He's turning out to be a much more loyal supporter than you. I wonder if I should send a message, let a certain someone know about your…reluctance."

Without another word, Malfoy storms into the classroom, looking humiliated and angry. He marches to the front, folding his arms tightly across his chest. Amycus Carrow steps into the doorway, a crooked smile in place.

"Good choice, Malfoy."

He slams the door shut and there is the grinding and clunking sound of it locking. All faces turn to Malfoy, who is staring at the door like it's done something terrible, not paying any attention to the students he is supposed to be observing.

"So, aren't you supposed to be setting us lines or something?" Seamus can't help but break the silence, voice loud. All heads flick to him, including Malfoy's. "Or have you got something more evil planned for us?"

Malfoy swallows, and Seamus sees his hand go to his wand. "Shut up," he says after a moment. "Just – just sit there and shut up."

Seamus exchanges another glance with Neville and then sits back to watch Malfoy. He paces in front of the desk at the front of the room once or twice, and then stops and hops up onto the desk in a movement graceful enough to catch Seamus by surprise. Malfoy pulls his feet up beneath him and sits cross-legged atop the oak surface, expression brooding and troubled.

He looks completely knackered, Seamus thinks. And besides that, there's the issue of why he didn't want to preside over the detention in the first place – Seamus doesn't know Malfoy well but he'd fully expect him to jump at the chance to lord it over the others, bullying the younger students just for the hell of it.

But no, Malfoy just sits there with his thoughts quite clearly a million miles away. Seamus wants to call him on it but manages to bite his tongue; Malfoy's wand is held loosely in his fingers, his wrist on his knee and hand hanging limp. Seamus can see the bones in Malfoy's wrist where the cuff of his shirt has lifted slightly and stares for a while, wondering how strong Malfoy actually is.

In a way Seamus feels oddly grateful for whatever it is that has Malfoy tied up in knots and acting completely unlike himself. After all, sitting in silence for three hours is one of the better punishments of late.

* * *

"See, you are quite clearly insolent because of your Muggle blood," Alecto says, advancing across the room towards Seamus, stopping just in front of his desk and quite clearly trying to intimidate. Her eyes are glittering with malice. "Disgusting behaviour."

"Judging by your behaviour, I'd say you're more Muggle than me then," Seamus retorts, not cowed in the slightest. "Maybe two or three mixed up into one. Frankenstein like, if you get my drift."

He expects a curse but he doesn't expect the backhand, which catches him across the face with a crack like a snapping broom. He's knocked from his chair onto the floor, pain blooming in his cheekbone and shock in his gut at the crude act of physical violence.

The class is silent, stunned breath collectively held. Alecto turns away, point proven, and Seamus looks up and around, holding his palm to his face. Inexplicably, his eyes land on Malfoy. Despite Crabbe and Goyle sniggering away at his side, Malfoy looks as shocked and sickened as the rest of them.

* * *

"Sit still," Parvati says exasperatedly, even though Seamus isn't moving. Brow furrowed in concentration, she gently applies some blue salve to the cut above Seamus's brow. Across the room Ginny is checking Neville for bruises.

"I am still," Seamus replies, even as his thumb twitches. "Ouch. _Careful._"

"If you stopped winding them up in class I wouldn't need to be so careful," Parvati says. By now, she's stopped crying whenever she's asked to heal Seamus's wounds. She just gets on with it, patching him back together as best she can and demanding to know why he can't just keep quiet.

"Can't let them think they've got us all underfoot, now can we?" Seamus says when she asks for the millionth time. "You're far too pretty to be repressed."

Parvati's mouth flickers in a smile as she dabs at the cut. "We should just keep our heads down and get on with it," she says.

"I miss the days when my flirting got you to agree with me," Seamus sighs, and then winces as she jabs at his wound more roughly than she normally would.

"Those were the days when I thought it might get me somewhere," she replies archly, and then her hands and voice go gentle again. "Seamus, please. You turning up in this state upsets the first years."

"Me being a brat is keeping the attention away from the first years," Seamus says, and Parvati's expression is torn between disbelief and gratitude. "Besides, why aren't you giving Neville the same grief? He's playing vigilante, too."

"Playing?" she asks quietly, sadly.

Seamus smiled tiredly. "Oh yeah. I have an imaginary cape and everything."

"I do think you're very brave," Parvati says as she leans back and wipes her hand on her skirt. She really is beautiful, Seamus thinks sadly, though he knows he'll never fully appreciate it, not like other blokes would. She's beautiful even when she's crying, and he can't stand the thought of beauty being wasted in a place like this.

"I think I'm an idiot," Seamus says as she pulls back, wiping her hands. "But needs must."

Parvati sighs and nods and kisses his temple before getting up off the arm of the chair and walking away. Seamus watches her go, wondering if she really understands.

* * *

"Curse him," Amycus says, his voice threatening.

Seamus's heart is pounding in his chest and his eyes are watering from where Alecto has a fistful of his hair clenched between her fingers. His head is pulled back so far he can't see the person standing in front of him, but he knows exactly who it is. After all, you'd have to be an idiot to mistake that drawling voice for anyone else. All he can see is the dark ceiling of the classroom, the light from the torches making flickering shadows dance above their heads. His body is tense, waiting for more pain. Seamus isn't scared of pain but they're seriously starting to hand out Crucios like chocolate frogs.

_Come on_, he thinks fiercely, not sure if his current position would allow him to get any words out. _Bring it, Malfoy. Do your worst. _

He waits, and waits, and then he hears a word that he wasn't expecting.

"But," Malfoy says, and Seamus isn't daft enough to feel hopeful; if Malfoy doesn't curse him then someone else surely will.

"What?" Amycus snaps.

"I thought he was getting detention." Malfoy's voice holds a definite waver, something that sounds almost like a plea. Seamus suddenly remembers the detention where Malfoy just kept them in silence and the look on Malfoy's face when Alecto had lamped him one, and he can't help but wonder what the fuck is going on it that blond head.

"This _is_detention," Alecto says, and pulls a fraction harder on Seamus's hair. He gasps and wobbles dangerously on his knees, his scalp screaming in pain and his kneecaps begging for relief.

"But," Malfoy says again.

"Now," Amycus demands. "Or do you want me to tell the Dark Lord about how little spine you have?"

"No!" Malfoy says wildly. "Don't!"

"Well then," Amycus snaps, sounding frustrated. "Get on with it."

Seamus hears footsteps move closer towards him, echoing softly on the stone floor. There is a long pause, in which his heart beats faster and faster, thumping against his sternum, and Seamus can't quite believe he's about to be Crucio'd by Draco sodding Malfoy, the fourth-year-ferret who no-one ever took seriously until it was too late.

"I'm – I can't, I don't feel well, I'm – I'm going to be sick-"

The hand in Seamus's hair loosens enough for him to look down marginally, just in time to see Malfoy flee the room, a hand clamped over his mouth. Amycus makes to go after him.

"Don't!" Alecto shouts, and her brother stills in place. "Let him run. We'll deal with him later."

Amycus snorts and turns back. "Pathetic."

"He's just weak-minded," Alecto says dismissively. "We can fix that."

"Like they fixed you?" Seamus gasps out, unable to keep his trap shut even at times like this. There is a shout of anger and a second later his body is nothing but pain.

When it ends and he's left panting with his cheek pressed to the floor and his whole body trembling, he's inexplicably thankful that it wasn't Malfoy.

* * *

"Run!" Seamus hollers, and he fucking _knew_this was a stupid idea, all this drama for a fucking sword that isn't really that important anyway. They all scatter, Ginny and Luna heading in one direction and Seamus and Neville in another. Experience has taught them that it's better to split up when they're running, though with some of the Slytherins helping the Carrows they're often outnumbered anyway.

He thinks he hears a shriek that sounds like Ginny but he can't stop, doesn't stop. He's not scared of the Carrows but he's not stupid enough to let himself get caught. If he can avoid a Crucio he will, because now his bloody feet have started twitching as well as his hands.

"Split!" Neville shouts and dashes to the left along a corridor towards the library. Seamus goes straight on, tearing down the length of the charms corridor as fast as he can, wildly thinking that they'll all be champion sprinters by the time this is over, if they make it-

There's a shout, and Seamus has half a second in which to process the word as a trip-jinx, and then he's hitting the floor on his face, his chin scraping the rough stone. He curses and tries to scramble to his feet again, adrenaline pushing him to just keep going, but before he can even properly get up he feels hands roughly grab his school shirt, hauling him up and pulling him along. He staggers along in the grip of whoever has caught him, trying to get at his wand.

He's half-dragged through a tapestry and then, inexplicably, the hands let him go. He staggers upright and wheels around to abruptly find himself nose to nose with none other than Malfoy, who quite worryingly has his wand pointed between Seamus's eyes.

Seamus tries to push past him and run but Malfoy grabs him again and shoves him back against the wall of the alcove that they're in. The scuffle is short but brief; Seamus is strong but Malfoy is taller and soon his wand is jammed under Seamus's chin, digging painfully into his already scraped skin.

"For fuck's sake, shut up," Malfoy whispers harshly, and Seamus goes still. He slumps back against the wall behind him and screws his eyes shut, waiting for whatever Malfoy is about to dish out and really hoping that Malfoy hasn't found a spine in the last fortnight.

Long moments pass, and he cautiously opens an eye. He's promptly surprised to find that Malfoy isn't even looking at him; instead he's staring intently at the back of the tapestry they're behind, almost as if he's waiting for something.

"…don't know. Was there another?"

Seamus tenses, drawing in a sharp breath of air as muffled voices float down the corridor beyond their tapestry. They're looking for him and all it will take is for Malfoy to draw back the tapestry and then Seamus will also be facing punishment for breaking into the headmaster's office.

"We've got the three, was there anyone else?"

"That'll do. It's the same three as last time anyway, good enough for me."

Seamus waits and waits, and then incredibly, the footsteps start to move away and Malfoy doesn't say so much as a word. He's perfectly motionless, his body still pressed to Seamus's from his earlier attempt at pinning him to the wall, his breathing shallow and rushed.

Realisation hits Seamus with the force of an angry dragon.

Malfoy hasn't sold him out to the Carrows.

In fact, Malfoy has done quite the opposite. Unbelievably, it appears that Malfoy has actually just saved Seamus's arse from certain Crucio.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Seamus breathes, amazed at his realisation.

Malfoy turns his head to look at him and they end up nose-to-nose. Malfoy's eyes widen and he abruptly steps back away from Seamus, though the alcove is small and he can't move more than a foot away. "I-" he begins, and he looks completely and utterly lost, as if he's been sleepwalking and has only just realised what he's done. "I don't know."

"What was that about? Since when have you stopped being one of them?" Seamus demands.

Malfoy stares at him. He only twitches once, and then his face twists and he turns away, pushing through the tapestry and then he's gone, his footsteps fading in seconds. The weight of his actions hang over the alcove, even though he's no longer there.

Seamus exhales shakily and slumps back against the wall again. He runs a hand over his face, not quite believing that he came out of that escapade in one piece. His stomach twists as he thinks of Neville, Luna and Ginny.

He stays in the alcove for quite some time.

* * *

"Oi! Malfoy!"

The shout is too loud in the otherwise abandoned corridor, and Malfoy quite clearly hears it. His steps falter fractionally but then he carries on. Head bowed, he quickens his pace and doesn't look around.

"Malfoy!"

Seamus breaks into a run, pulling his wand from his pocket. By the time Malfoy realises that Seamus is after him it's too late; Seamus grabs his shoulder and yanks him back, bringing him to a standstill.

"Get off," Malfoy spits and twists around to face Seamus. His school-bag falls to the floor with a thump and he glares at Seamus through shadow-ringed eyes.

"Calm down, I just want to talk," Seamus says, holding up his hands in a gesture of supplication and taking a step back out of Malfoy's personal space.

"I don't want to talk to you," Malfoy bites out, quickly stooping to grab his bag and holding it protectively to his chest. His eye twitches and if Seamus didn't know better he'd assume that Malfoy was winking at him.

"Last night," Seamus says, and Malfoy tenses and twitches again. "What was that all about?"

"I don't want to talk to you," Malfoy repeats angrily, and turns on his heel to storm away.

Seamus frowns after him. "If you'd stop being such a princess about it, I'm trying to say thank you."

Surprisingly, that stops Malfoy. He slowly turns to look at Seamus, wariness written all over his face. They stand in silence for what feels like forever, though thirty seconds is probably a better estimate. Seamus lets the moment drag out, waiting to see if Malfoy will man up and manage a sentence.

"Don't thank me," Malfoy finally says, looking at the floor. "It's not something that you should thank me for."

"If you had sold me out I probably would have been Crucio'd. Again," Seamus says flatly.

Malfoy twitches, though Seamus thinks that one's a flinch in response to the word Crucio rather than an involuntary tremor. "Yeah, but I shouldn't have had to do it," he says helplessly, and Seamus is gobsmacked because if that means what he thinks it means, it's possibly the smartest thing he's ever heard Malfoy say.

"Are we talking morals or the fact you didn't want yourself to get in trouble?"

Thankfully, Malfoy scowls. "I'm not a complete coward," he snaps, and then he turns on his heel and marches away without looking back.

"Yeah you are," Seamus says to the empty corridor, though he's not entirely sure he believes it anyway.

* * *

They don't speak face to face again for a long time. Malfoy does his best to ignore Seamus but Seamus catches him looking his way more and more often as the days pass by. Then again, Seamus only notices Malfoy looking at him because he's taken to watching the git like Harry used to do in sixth year. Thankfully, no-one calls him on it. They're all too busy trying to make it through the days.

Seamus notices that Malfoy looks sicker by the day, wild-eyed and panicked and like he wants nothing more than to vanish. The other Slytherins don't seem to notice. Crabbe and Goyle look happy as trolls in shit and Pansy Parkinson swans around with a superior smile on her face, bullying younger students just as Malfoy used to do.

Seamus can't help but be intrigued by this new, not-so-improved Malfoy, wondering why he isn't playing nice with his Slytherin friends. Surely this is what he always wanted? To be on top of the pile, considered better than anyone else without having to do anything but be born?

Everyone knows that there's a Dark Mark stamped on that pale skin, and whilst Malfoy doesn't appear threatening – in fact, he appears pretty pathetic right now – Seamus knows he has it in him to be downright dangerous, whether he means to be or not.

* * *

"Go on then," Seamus shouts, at the end of his tether with the snide commentary about diseased half-bloods. "I don't give a flying fuck."

Alecto points her wand at him. "Behave."

"You fuckin' behave," Seamus retorts, and the class draws a collective breath. Crabbe stands up, looking to Alecto and drawing his wand.

"Be my guest," Alecto breathes and Seamus braces himself mentally, giving Crabbe his best I don't care face. As Crabbe walks forwards, Seamus glances towards Malfoy. Malfoy is staring determinedly in the other direction, and just before the curse hits him, Seamus watches Malfoy swallow thickly, his adams-apple moving in his throat.

* * *

The stones of the parapet at the top of the astronomy tower are cool behind his back. Seamus leans against them, letting the cold soothe his throbbing muscles. He's exhausted and right now he misses Dean so badly it hurts more than the bruises. He can't deny that Neville has been an unexpected figure in this mess, a far cry from the scared boy whose worst fear was Snape.

But he's not Dean.

Neville doesn't always understand why Seamus is the way he is. Only Dean knows that Seamus stopped being scared of everything after coming out to his dad in fifth year. After going through that, it seems pointless to be afraid of things, especially when you can't do anything about it.

And anyway, it feels like in the simplest of terms, kowtowing down to Snape and the Carrows would feel like losing. Having an easy ride isn't important to Seamus. He feels he'd be as guilty as the actual Death Eaters if he just sat back and let them get on with it.

Seamus breathes in and out deeply, turning his face towards the stars. Hogwarts feels like a faded memory already. The castle they currently live in can't possibly be Hogwarts.

There's a soft noise from the direction of the stairwell and he instantly sits up, hand going for his wand. He hasn't imagined it; he can now clearly hear footsteps on the stone, winding up the spiral staircase.

He hastily gets to his feet and quickly edges over to the doorway that leads up onto the top floor, hiding just around the corner so he's out of sight. The steps get louder and louder, Seamus counts down from ten and then a figure appears at the top of the stairs, one hand on the railing.

He grabs the figure by their collar and yanks them around, pressing his wand to their temple, and then realises in disbelief that it's Malfoy.

"What the fuck are you doing up here?" he asks in amazement, the tip of his wand still pressing into Malfoy's skin. Malfoy's is nowhere in sight.

"What the fuck are _you_doing up here?" Malfoy counters, his voice cracking. "Get off."

Seamus lets him go and Malfoy steps back, reaching for his tie and pulling it straight. He slips his hand into his pocket and Seamus would bet against leprechaun gold that his fingers are now curled around his wand.

"Surprised you can stand to come back up here," Seamus says, and Malfoy flushes.

"Well I can," he bites out, and then seems to shrink a little, shoulders slumping. "No-one thinks to look for me up here."

Seamus eyes him carefully. "Why are you trying to hide? You're one of them."

Malfoy looks down at his feet. "No, I'm not."

"Well, you certainly got us all fooled with the Dark Mark and the killing Dumbledore thing," Seamus says brazenly, and Malfoy's head snaps up.

"I didn't," he says fiercely. "I didn't mean to-" He breaks off, now looking like he's about to cry. He swallows convulsively, clenching his jaw.

"Why're you so upset?" Seamus asks in mild disbelief. "Surely this is what you've always wanted? You know, to be the best pure-blood in town, You-Know-Who's little protégée-"

"It wasn't supposed to be like this!" Malfoy shouts over him, and there's something wild in his face. "You think this is what I wanted?"

Silence falls, the weight of Malfoy's admission hanging in the air between them. Seamus isn't as shocked by the revelation as he should be; all the signs were there but it would have been stupid to assume. He watches Malfoy carefully, waiting for more, and right on cue, Malfoy twitches.

"Nice twitch you've got there," Seamus says, unable to help himself.

Malfoy stares at him. "Almost matches yours," he says finally, and the comment is so unexpected that Seamus laughs.

"Crucio-twitch?" he asks.

Malfoy nods, eyes wide and expression a little vacant. "Something like that."

They go quiet once more. A breeze ruffles their hair, and after a long while Seamus pockets his wand. Malfoy watches him do it and then slowly pulls his hands from his pockets, folding his arms across his chest. The tension between them fades and they eye each other curiously, not sure how to proceed now the socially acceptable routine of insult-hex-curse has been taken out of the equation.

"So. Hiding?" Seamus asks, clearing his throat.

Malfoy nods. "They want me to go on patrol."

"Why don't you want to go on patrol?"

Malfoy shrugs. The silence stretches out again. Seamus has no inclination to break it so instead he turns and walks to the edge of the tower, leaning on the wall and looking out into the darkness. He can hear the distant sounds of the lake and the trees of the forbidden forest rustling and creaking, but he can't see anything but inky blackness that stretches on and on. It makes him feel like the world is so much bigger than everything that is happening here. He's not sure if it's a comforting thing or not.

"Why do you keep winding them up?" Malfoy suddenly asks from behind him. "Are you some sort of masochist?"

Seamus laughs shortly. "No, I don't get off on being in excruciating pain on a daily basis," he says. "But I don't want anyone thinking I'm scared of them."

There's a pause and then to Seamus's surprise, Malfoy appears at his side, standing next to him with pale hand`s resting on the edge of the parapet. He doesn't look up at Seamus when he next speaks. "You're not scared?"

Seamus shakes his head. "No," he says truthfully.

"How?" Malfoy asks, and the question is simple but filled with so much more.

Seamus shrugs. "I'm just not."

They run out of words again but neither seems to mind. They stand side-by side in the darkness for a long time, watching the sky above them. It's strangely peaceful, and Seamus is curious that it can feel as such when there's a Marked man at his side. Although, he has to concede, it looks like there's more to Malfoy than just the Mark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

Snape stands in front them, his back to the wall and his face an icy mask. The only give away to his wrath are his eyes, which are glittering with fury. He's letting the silence drag out, trying to intimidate them or maybe push them into breaking down before he says anything. Behind him, the foot high words, _Dumbledore's Army – Still Recruiting_, glow dully in the light from the torches.

"Who is responsible for this?" Snape finally asks, voice calm and dangerous, and a thrill of trepidation runs down Seamus's spine. Next to him Neville shifts from foot to foot. Neither says anything.

"Answer me," Snape says through closed teeth, and he makes the words sound like separate sentences. Behind him, Malfoy is dithering on the spot, looking down at his feet and fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Me."

Neville quickly turns his head to look at Seamus, before turning back to Snape and saying "both of us."

Seamus would kick him if he could do it without being noticed. Solidarity is great and all that, but there's no point them both taking the punishment when it could just be Seamus.

"How noble," Snape says, sounding bored. "Draco," he says, without turning his eyes away from Seamus and Neville. Malfoy edges forwards, looking sick.

"Who was it?" Snape asks.

Seamus stares at Malfoy, who is twisting his fingers together and looking at the floor again. Malfoy doesn't know who it was – he only turned up just after they'd finished their minor act of vandalism. He's not stupid though, so he could probably work out it was both of them. Inwardly, Seamus is praying that Malfoy blames him, and then maybe Neville can get away. It's not lost on Seamus that luck isn't on their side tonight; considering his peculiar behaviour as of late Malfoy might have just let them leg it had Snape not turned up ten seconds behind him-

Malfoy says something to his feet.

"What?" Snape snaps, and Malfoy cringes.

"Longbottom," he says quietly, and the word is like a punch to the gut.

"No it was not!" Seamus shouts. "You liar-"

A flick from Snape's wand and Seamus is silenced. "On your way, Finnigan," he says with a curl of his lip. "Back to your tower whilst I have a word with Longbottom."

Neville lifts his chin defiantly and Seamus feels a pang go through him. Neville is trembling and Seamus knows he's scared but refusing to show it.

"Draco, kindly escort Finnigan back to where he came from," Snape instructs. Seamus glances at Neville who nods fractionally, jerkily. Swallowing thickly and with no other choice, Seamus walks away, refusing to look back. He can't bear the thought of Neville looking after him, expression betrayed and hurt because Seamus didn't refuse to leave.

Silently, Malfoy falls into step beside Seamus, walking next to him like they're mates or something. Seamus feels anger spike through him, suddenly wanting nothing more than to punch Malfoy right in his stupid pointy face. They're almost at the tower when he chooses his moment; he stops dead in the corridor, and half a step later Malfoy stops too, turning back to look at Seamus with a frown on his face.

Seamus punches him. He hits him square in the jaw and Malfoy staggers back with a cry of shock and pain. Seamus doesn't care, he's just so fucking angry, and there's _nothing_ he can do to help Neville who is taking all the blame and punishment for the both of them. He grabs Malfoy and shoves him back against the wall, trying to grab his wrists and only managing to catch one, and in the blink of an eye Malfoy's wand is digging into his chin, _again._

"Get off," Malfoy says, voice wavering.

Seamus shoves him back roughly into the wall with a silent cry of rage, not even caring that Malfoy could curse him.

"You should be saying thank you," Malfoy shouts and Seamus goes to hit him again but Malfoy catches his wrist, gripping it tightly enough to bruise. His wand digs into Seamus's skin. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"Neville," Seamus mouths, furious and angry at his helplessness.

"You'd rather I have said it was you?" Malfoy asks incredulously, and stares in disbelief as Seamus nods. "Are you _insane?_"

Seamus glares at him and opens and shuts his mouth and Malfoy flushes. He mutters something and Seamus clears his throat, relieved to find that it makes a sound.

"Stop interfering," he snaps at Malfoy. "You can't pick and choose when to be noble. You should have said you didn't see anything."

"Snape knew I'd seen something," Malfoy replies, voice rough. "I had to pick one of you."

"Why Neville? What has he ever done to you?!"

A look of discomfort crosses over Malfoy's face. He lets go of Seamus's wrists and tries to wriggle away. Seamus notices but doesn't budge an inch, remaining firmly in Malfoy's personal space. "Nothing," Malfoy finally admits, his voice a mutter.

"Then _why?_" Seamus demands. "I can take a curse better than Neville – _Christ,_ Malfoy. You know what happened to his parents, right?"

Malfoy shakes his head from side to side as if he can block out the words. "I _know,_" he says, voice trembling, and of course he does. "I didn't think, alright, I just – I couldn't – I didn't want to see you get cursed again. Not again."

Seamus gapes at him. "Since when have you taken such an interest in my wellbeing?"

The pink flush staining Malfoy's cheeks deepens, his own skin a dead giveaway to his traitorous thoughts. He pushes Seamus away and edges away from the wall, his right hand hovering as if he can't decide whether to raise or lower his wand. He looks up at Seamus, and the way he's looking is wonderfully and horrifyingly familiar.

"Malfoy?"

"You don't know anything!" Malfoy bursts out, and the panic in his tone does nothing but confirm the secret he's just let slip. He makes his mind up, pointing his wand right at Seamus's face. "You know nothing about me!"

"You're dropping some pretty big hints," Seamus says and Malfoy goes pale, looking terrified all over again.

He storms away, leaving Seamus alone.

* * *

"I'm okay," Neville says shakily, leaning back onto the sofa, body still tense and shivering. Seamus crouches by his feet, a hand on Neville's knee. The common room is warm and not as comforting as it usually feels. A group of second years are huddled together by the fire as if they believe there's really safety in numbers.

Seamus hopes that Dean isn't by himself, wherever the fuck he is. That lanky bastard won't last ten minutes by himself.

"I'm so sorry," he says to Neville, forcing his mind away from Dean. He can't stop to think about him, shouldn't think about it. "I had no idea Malfoy would…"

_Pick to save my arse_, he says mentally, still feeling unsteady about that fact. A small part of him that feels like he did in fifth year is laughing riotously over the fact that it appears that Malfoy fancies him. His seventh year self can't find it as funny as he'd like because it's just so fucking _stupid._

"It's okay," Neville says. He tries to sit up a little further but gives up with a wince, sinking back into the cushions. Seamus passes him a glass of water and Neville accepts it, taking a careful sip. He looks exhausted. "He's got more reason to hate me than you."

Seamus looks at the floor. "I don't think that's it," he admits, and Neville looks at him curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"He said…" Seamus still feels guilty that Malfoy chose to save him and not Neville, and the words are hard to get out. "He said he didn't want to see me get cursed again. It's not the first time he's done it either. Saved my arse on purpose."

"Really?" Neville looks surprised, intrigued.

Seamus nods uncomfortably. "That night you lot got caught when we were trying to get the sword. I ran into Malfoy, and he grabbed me and hid us in that alcove behind the tapestry on the third floor."

"He hid you?" Neville asks in amazement. "Why on earth would he do that?"

Seamus shrugs and lies. "Haven't got the foggiest."

Neville eyes him carefully. Seamus feels both awkward and relieved that he's admitted that there's something going on with Malfoy, whatever that something might be.

"Do you think he wants to switch sides?" Neville asks, and Seamus is grateful that Neville has enough tact not to ask about him-and-Malfoy outright. He looks thoughtful, tipping his glass of water slightly so the liquid slides up the sides of the glass, closer and closer to the lip. His hand twitches and he hastily straightens it before the drink spills. "He doesn't look happy at the moment. He's barely with Crabbe and Goyle anymore. I haven't seen them all together in ages."

Seamus fiddles with a loose thread on one of the cushions. "I don't know," he says quietly, and he honestly doesn't.

* * *

When Luna doesn't return after Christmas, it makes Ginny cry. Seamus has never seen Ginny cry before and to him it's as shocking as seeing third-years get cursed. She wipes her face angrily, staring at the fire in the common-room.

"We can't give up," she says fiercely, and she's back to unbreakable, all red-hair and resilience. "There's still me, you and Neville."

"And Parvati and Lavender," Seamus adds. "They're not as useless as they seem."

Ginny laughs at that, the sound thick with tears. "Yeah," she says. "I suppose."

"They'll be okay," Seamus says, and Ginny leans forwards and hugs him tightly. At that moment the weight of their missing friends weighs heavily on their shoulders, and Seamus would give anything to know that they were all safe.

* * *

"We'll be looking at a new spell today," Amycus Carrow says, walking to the front of the room. "A spell that can be used against enemies in defensive situations."

Seamus hates that phrase. _Defensive situations._ It's frankly ridiculous that they're trying to pass off this sorry excuse for a class as Defence against the Dark Arts.

"It is highly effective at immobilizing an attacker," Amycus continues, and a slight smile lifts the corner of his mouth. "In short, you use to kill."

Next to Seamus, Parvati looks down, reaching up and pressing fingertips to her mouth. She blinks and tears fall right from her eyes into her lap. Seamus reaches under the table to hold her free hand and she squeezes it tightly.

"Slashing wand movement, and a single incantation," Amycus says, sounding like he's telling them how to conjure tulips rather than kill someone. "The incantation is _Sectumsempra,_ and it's a type of cutting curse that is especially effective on flesh-"

He breaks off as he's interrupted by the screech of a chair being pushed back. Seamus looks up and to his surprise it's _Malfoy_ who has stood up so violently that he's nearly knocked his chair over. He's shoving his books back in his bag one by one and ignoring Pansy Parkinson, who is looking bewildered and trying to get him to sit back down.

"Sit down," snaps Amycus. "What do you think you're doing?"

Malfoy doesn't reply. He just shuts his bag with violently shaking hands and then walks away, slamming the door on his way out.

* * *

Malfoy is so ridiculously pale, Seamus thinks as he silently watches him from the doorway at the top of the spiral staircase that winds up the astronomy tower. He knew he'd be here the moment he decided to go looking, wanting to find Malfoy to ask him about his hasty departure from their lesson earlier that day. Well, that's the story he sticks with, choosing to ignore the part of him that wants to explore this _thing_ that's somehow developed between him and Malfoy.

Malfoy is standing next to the outer wall of the tower, in almost exactly the same place that he and Seamus stood all that time ago. He has his back to Seamus and is leaning forwards with his hands braced on the stone and his head bowed, but he's unmistakable. He's conjured a pair of glowing orbs of light that are hovering above his head, moving around in slow mesmerizing circles. The light is soft and underneath it Malfoy doesn't look as sharp as he normally does.

Seamus pushes away from the doorframe he's been leaning against, silently watching Malfoy for a couple of minutes. Frankly, managing to keep his mouth shut for that long must be some sort of miracle. Amazingly, some part of him doesn't want to talk. It wants to stay quiet and watch Malfoy under his gently revolving lights.

"Now, what was that all about?"

Typically, Seamus's mouth decides to go ahead anyway, despite what his brain might have wanted. Well, he supposes it's as good a way to announce his presence as any other. Malfoy whips around looking frightened, but when he sees Seamus hovering in the doorway, something else that looks suspiciously like relief flitters across his face before he turns back around.

"Why do you care?" he says tonelessly as Seamus joins him, leaning on the wall on his elbows and staring out over the snowy grounds.

"Colour me intrigued," Seamus admits. "Never seen anyone just bail on a Carrow like that."

"I know what that curse can do," Malfoy says, his eyes vacant and far away as he stares out at nothing. He looks almost haunted and it makes Seamus shiver. The lights above them dip and then dart away, making shadows fade and grow across Malfoy's face.

"Used it on someone?" Seamus asks casually, eyes on the line of Malfoy's jaw.

Malfoy shakes his head slowly and then blinks, seeming to come back to himself. "No," he says, his voice much clearer, and he picks at the stone in front of him. "Someone used it on me."

Seamus feels his eyebrows lift in disbelief. They've just received a very thorough education on the effects of _Sectumsempra_ and frankly, he's amazed that Malfoy is still in one piece if he _has_ been on the receiving end.

"Who?" he asks, curious and wanting to know more. It's as if every time they run into each other he finds more and more layers of Malfoy to peel away, more of a person hiding behind the front.

Malfoy laughs, low and bitter. "I don't think you want to know."

"Who?" Seamus presses, never one to let go without an answer. Malfoy's face twists into something ugly.

"Potter."

Time seems to stand still as Seamus stares at Malfoy, not quite believing what he's just heard. There's only one Potter, and whilst Harry can be a bit of a tosspot on occasion, Seamus doesn't think he'd ever do something like _that_.

"No way," he says, shaking his head.

The reply is startling and to the point in a way Seamus didn't expect. Malfoy stands up straight and reaches for the hem of his jumper. The lights above his head twirl together as he pulls it off jerkily and then reaches for his tie. Seamus's eyes go wide and thankfully he doesn't say anything about how long it's been since anyone stripped off in front of him. Malfoy unbuttons his school shirt to reveal a plain white t-shirt underneath, and then without warning he lifts it up, revealing a flat stomach and hairless chest to Seamus's eyes.

Seamus isn't sure what he's supposed to be seeing, and then Malfoy moves slightly and something shines weakly in the faint light. A scar. A long mark that goes from Malfoy's left collarbone, across his chest and down to his bellybutton. The orbs of light drift closer, throwing Malfoy's body into stark relief.

"Holy fuck," Seamus manages, staring and not able to look away. "Harry did _that?_"

Malfoy nods and drops his t-shirt, pushing it down and then going to button up his school-shirt. "We were fighting," he says unnecessarily, looking at his fingers as he fiddles with the buttons.

"No wonder you hate him," Seamus says, and Malfoy laughs shortly, and the sound is thick and wobbly. His fingers stall on the buttons for a moment and then he forces himself to continue.

"And he's supposed to be the good guy," he says, and he's trying to keep his tone light but it comes out bitter.

Seamus takes a step forwards, not sure why he feels compelled to be a bit closer. "Harry's no bad guy," he says quietly. "He can be a right tosser at times, but yeah. I don't think there's definitive good guys and bad guys anyway. I mean, you're a spectacular twat but I don't think you're a bad guy."

"Not even with a Mark?" Malfoy asks.

"I don't know, do I?" Seamus says, watching as Malfoy does up the final button that sits in the hollow of his collarbones, something strange flickering through him. "Like you said, I don't know anything about you."

"Thought you said I was dropping hints," Malfoy says, and he lifts his eyes to meet Seamus's, the question of how much Seamus thinks he does or doesn't know unspoken but obvious.

Seamus doesn't know why he does it, but going with his usual policy of do now, think later, he steps forwards and carefully puts a hand on Malfoy's chest, right where the scar is. Malfoy sucks in a breath and Seamus looks up to see that Malfoy is so very close to him, looking at Seamus with wide eyes, breathing shallowly in his chest.

"A few hints," Seamus replies quietly. His thumb moves slightly, tracing a path over the cotton of Malfoy's shirt.

"And is this…" Malfoy asks, struggling to find words. "Are you dropping a hint in return?" he asks carefully.

"Maybe," Seamus says, and something strange twists around his spine as he admits to Malfoy that yes, there is indeed something that they have in common.

They stand very still, and Seamus doesn't move his hand. He can feel Malfoy's heartbeat under his palm, and it's an oddly soothing thing to feel, a steady thump amidst all the uncertainty. He looks up and Malfoy's wide grey eyes are on him again, looking scared and vulnerable and confused. Belatedly, Seamus realises that touching Malfoy like this is possibly a very bad idea, but as he stares back at Malfoy he realises that bad idea or not, he's still not moving his hand away and he's _still_ right up in Malfoy's personal space.

Malfoy's eyes flick to his mouth and back and it's so quick that Seamus almost misses it. He draws in a sharp breath and without even thinking about it, moves marginally closer. Malfoy does that little flick of his eyes again, and then _he_ moves slightly closer. Seamus barely has time to register how insane this all is before Malfoy twitches and then seems to come to his senses.

His eyes get, if possible, even wider. He jerks away and stumbles back a step, looking stunned. He stares at Seamus as if he's a ghost and then rather predictably, runs away.

Seamus is left at the top of the tower by himself. He breathes out deeply and runs a hand over his chin.

"Wasn't going to fucking kiss you anyway," he calls, even though Malfoy is long gone. Seamus huffs, angry with himself, and all he can think is, _Malfoy. Really?_

* * *

"I cannot believe that you would do this to another student," McGonagall shouts, and as furious as she is, her vitriol holds no weight anymore. Out of the four Slytherins, the only one who looks scared is bloody Malfoy, and he wasn't even part of it anyway. Crabbe is staring insolently at McGonagall, Pansy Parkinson looks as if she's not even listening and Goyle is looking blank. Seamus would happily tell her who is to blame, but seeing as his mouth has been hexed away, he can't.

"It is _unacceptable_ behaviour, and you will each be getting a detention. If I find out who cast the spell-"

As much as Seamus appreciates McGonagall shouting at the Slytherins, his jaw aches and she's missing the point that he could tell her who it was if she'd just remove the hex. Seamus clears his throat and thankfully, it makes a sound although it's awkwardly loud. McGonagall rounds on him and all the Slytherins but Malfoy also turn to look at him.

She pauses and then draws her wand, jabbing it in his direction. To his relief, the skin of his lower face parts and his mouth re-appears exactly as it should be. He stretches his mouth out, rubbing at his jaw with his fingers.

"So, who was responsible?" McGonagall asks him.

"I don't know who cast, but Malfoy wasn't there," Seamus says honestly. "It was one of the other three."

"You weren't involved?" McGonagall asks Malfoy. Pansy and Crabbe turn to look at him. Crabbe is frowning and Pansy's expression is shrewd and calculating. Goyle still looks blank.

"Yeah I was," he says hurriedly.

"No you weren't!" Seamus exclaims, and why the fuck is Malfoy trying to get himself in trouble now? Seamus is offering him a get-out-of-Azkaban-free card and instead of taking it and running he actually _wants_ to be punished?

There is a pause. McGonagall looks from Malfoy to Seamus and back again. Finally, she sighs. "Mister Malfoy, you may go. Seamus, you go too."

"No!" Malfoy says desperately, and Parkinson is still watching him with narrowed eyes. "I-"

"You may go," McGonagall repeats loudly over him, her nostrils flaring. Malfoy gapes uselessly at her and then turns on heel and walks away without another word, his expression torn. Seamus waits half a second and then darts after him. He waits until they're alone before calling out to him, his voice echoing along the corridor.

"Malfoy-"

"What the hell are you playing at?" Malfoy shouts, coming to a halt and whipping around to face Seamus. He looks furious; his hands are balled into fists and he's shaking.

"What am I playing at?" Seamus asks incredulously, taken aback by the venom. "I was trying to keep you out of trouble!"

"And like that's not suspicious!" Malfoy shouts. "You're going to get me killed!"

"Stop being so dramatic," Seamus retorts, disbelief etched into his face. "Your mates aren't going to kill you just because I did something decent for you-"

"Not them, you idiot," Malfoy snarls, and Seamus has never seen him so angry. "But if word gets out that there's anything between me and you, or if anyone says that I'm not loyal, the Dark Lord-"

"Oh, like he cares about you," Seamus scoffs.

"He does-"

"I'm sure," Seamus says in disbelief. "I'll bet he's got 'keep up correspondence with a sixteen year old coward' right above 'take over the world' on his to-do-list."

Malfoy's face has gone white. "Shut up," he shouts, and his voice is trembling as much as his hands. "You don't know anything-"

"I know no-one cares about you!" Seamus yells back. "You're not important to anyone, let alone You-Know-You-"

"HE'S IN MY HOUSE!" Malfoy bellows, and Seamus freezes. "What the fuck am I meant to do? You think it's bad here?! You haven't seen shit!"

"Who is the where now?" Seamus asks stupidly, unable to process what he's just heard.

"Who do you think?" Malfoy says almost hysterically. "I don't like _any_ of this but he's in my _house_, so if I don't do what they say…"

"You Know Who is in your _house?_" Seamus asks, horrified. _"Christ."_

Suddenly, Malfoy makes perfect sense. No wonder he looks like he's going to either cry or throw up most of the time. Seamus would bet his broomstick that Malfoy hadn't anticipated _that_ when he signed up to be part of the gang. Seamus stares at him and as he takes in how miserable Malfoy looks, he realises that he feels sorry for him.

"Regretting that tattoo, I take it?"

Malfoy laughs bitterly. "You have no idea."

"Christ," Seamus says with a low whistle between his teeth. "Talk about being stuck between a troll and a hard place."

Malfoy laughs and this time sound is twisted and hysterical. "See. I've got no choice but to do what they say."

Seamus carefully steps forwards so they're almost touching. "There's always a choice," he says, his voice low.

Malfoy stares at him. "Shut up, Finnigan," he finally says, but it's quieter and softer than Seamus anticipated. They stand still for a long drawn out moment, and then Malfoy walks away. He looks exactly the same as he did ten minutes ago but now that Seamus knows why he's been acting so strangely, he looks completely different.

Seamus finds himself wishing that Malfoy had stayed, just so Seamus could look at him a little while longer.

* * *

"Are you going to behave?"

Seamus can't even answer the question. He's trying to breathe, gasping in air like he's drowning and coughing in the dust from the floor. Something trickles down his forehead, and he hopes it's sweat but judging by the dull pain in his temple he suspects it's probably blood.

"Well?"

A foot prods at him and he tries to push it away. All he can think about is his dad saying _'you might be bent but you better not be a wimp,'_ and he hopes wildly that he's living up to expectations.

"Enough," says another voice, and Seamus recognises it as Snape. He sounds bored as ever, like the violence of the Carrows is beneath him. "Draco, pick him up. Take him back to his common room. Here – wait, take his wand."

Seamus hears more talking but he doesn't register any words. He's hurting and aching deep down in his bones; Parvati's healing charms barely take the sting out of his skin anymore. He wishes Dean were here.

Something bumps against him and fucking _hurts._ He makes a noise somewhere in his throat and tries to shove whatever is touching him away. He hits something warm and solid and human.

"Get away," he manages to choke out, shoving at what he thinks is someone's knees. A hand touches his shoulder, hesitant and shaking.

"Stop touching him and pick him up!" a voice snaps, and the hand on his shoulder takes a firmer grip on his jumper and tugs half-heartedly.

"Finnigan, get up," a whispered voice says, sounding panicked. Seamus recognises it and stops pushing the person away.

"Can't," Seamus breathes, and his whole body is shaking and he's not sure his legs would even hold him. He hears Malfoy mutter something and then feels himself being hauled up, presumably by magic. He comes to rest with his feet skittering across the floor and then Malfoy grabs hold of him, one arm around his waist and the other on his wrist, heaving Seamus's arm over his shoulders.

"Oh how lovely," he dimly hears Amycus Carrow sneer. "Do you like touching up dirty half-bloods then, Malfoy?"

"You told me to pick him up," Malfoy replies, sounding abashed and angry.

"You're a wizard, a pretty pathetic one if you can't move someone without resorting to putting your hands all over them-"

"Enough," Snape says again. "Get out of my sight."

Seamus staggers and slips as Malfoy moves forwards, holding onto him tightly. Dizzily, he realises that Malfoy's magic is still supporting him, taking most of his weight. With that in mind he makes himself move, one wobbly foot in front of the other.

It takes what feels like years. His chest is hurting more than ever, and every time he breathes in something stabs through his side. He looks up blearily and then comes to a stop, tripping and stumbling.

"Goin' the wrong way," he says, and he knows Malfoy can probably barely understand him, his accent and slurred voice making words almost indistinguishable.

"Not," Malfoy says tightly. "Hospital wing first."

Seamus doesn't even have it in him to make a joke or witty retort. He just lets Malfoy half-carry him along, wondering how stupid everyone has to be to miss this bizarre behaviour of Malfoy's. Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy. It's always bloody Malfoy at the minute.

"You're always turning up at the minute."

It's not until Malfoy replies that he realises he said anything out loud. "Well, yes. You insist on running around like an idiot, it's bound to happen."

Seamus laughs, and then winces. "And you insist on running around with that lot."

"We've been through this," Malfoy says sharply, and he tugs on Seamus's wrist with rather more force than strictly necessary. "I'm not the one insisting."

Two more corridors and one hellish staircase and Seamus sees the familiar archway that leads to the hospital wing. The torches inside are lit and flickering and the sight is achingly welcome. Seamus doesn't even care to think about why Malfoy has bought him here instead of just dumping him at the Fat Lady. He just wants skele-grow and to pass out on his face.

"Oh my – what on earth have you done to him?!"

Madam Pomfrey's voice is shrill and shocked but Seamus is still glad to hear it. She runs over and grabs hold of Seamus, propping his other side up.

"I didn't do it," Malfoy says, and he's not yet let go of Seamus. If anything, the arm around his middle tightens.

"I shouldn't let you anywhere near this wing-"

"I didn't do it, alright?" Malfoy snaps. "Do your job and help him."

Seamus doesn't remember much more after that. He remembers collapsing down onto a bed, being fed potions sip by sip. He remembers shaking hands checking him over and then the pain subsiding into a dull ache. His head is spinning and he feels like he did when he and his cousin Fergus had nicked and drank that bottle of Firewhiskey a few Christmases ago. He wishes Dean were here.

As if in reply to the thought, a hand slips into his, long fingers tracing his palm, tips coming to rest on the skin of his wrist. He lifts his head and the world tilts nauseatingly.

"Dean?" he says, and opens his eyes. He blinks hard, fighting down the urge to be sick.

Slowly, the world comes into focus. He looks at the person sat in the chair next to his hospital bed and the first thing he thinks is that it's clearly not Dean. The second thing he thinks is that it's Malfoy.

Malfoy is leant forwards, hunched over. His elbow rests on his knee and his pointed chin is cupped in his palm. His other hand is still holding Seamus's, resting atop the standard issue hospital wing sheets. He's so pale and there's a smear of blood on his face, smudged across his cheekbone. He's staring at their joined hands, face blank.

"Is that my blood?" Seamus asks, and Malfoy's eyes snap up to his, a confused frown drawing his eyebrows together. "On your face."

Malfoy sits up a little and wipes his face with his forearm. He looks at the red which now stains his school shirt and then he laughs hopelessly, looking up to Seamus.

"Yeah," he says weakly, and tears fall from his eyes as he blinks, spilling over and falling out of sight, barely even brushing his cheeks as they disappear.

"Don't cry, you fuckin' wuss," Seamus says and Malfoy just laughs again, more tears falling. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Why can't you just stop winding them up?" he says helplessly.

"Why are you holding my hand?" Seamus counters with a potion-happy grin. It's strained and hurts to move his cheeks.

"Why are you still making jokes?" Malfoy whispers, but he doesn't let go of Seamus's hand and his fingers are oddly comforting.

"I've always made jokes. They're not going to stop me," Seamus says.

Malfoy coughs out another almost laugh. "I know," he says. "I noticed."

"Don't go," Seamus says, and he knows it's probably the potions talking but he can't be arsed to care. "Just sit there and stay blond."

"What?" Malfoy looks confused again. "I've always been blond."

"Well you're changing every fuckin' thing else about you," Seamus says tiredly , shutting his eyes and feeling exhausted. "At least leave the hair the same."

"Shut up, Finnigan," Malfoy says, and his fingers tighten around Seamus's. Seamus cracks an eye open and Malfoy's blurry form is looking at him strangely, almost like he's pleased with what Seamus has said.

"Are you going to kiss me, or what, then?" Seamus says lazily as he shuts his eyes again. "There's a war on, y'know. Might be my last chance for some action."

"Stop talking like that," Malfoy replies tersely.

"Make me," Seamus retorts and then Malfoy does exactly the right thing and shuts him up by kissing him, pressing his mouth to Seamus's. He's breathing unsteadily through his nose and his body is pressing against Seamus's aching ribs but Seamus doesn't care.

It lasts somewhere between a second and a lifetime and then Malfoy pulls back. He hovers for a moment, breath whispering over Seamus's face, and then he pulls away. Seamus wants to tell him to stay the fuck where he is but he doesn't need to. Malfoy sits back down and lifts Seamus's hand, clasping it in both of his own and holding it to his face.

"Knew you liked me," Seamus laughs, and he's halfway to blissful sleep, his mind drifting away towards nothing.

"You know fuck all," Malfoy replies, but he sounds somewhere between exasperated and forlorn and as Seamus drifts away he's still there, holding Seamus's hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part three**

"Finnigan."

The call is short and the voice is curt, and Seamus has been waiting for it for quite a while. He's been out of the hospital wing for three days and has caught Malfoy looking at him no less than twelve times. Stupid, stupid Malfoy who wears his heart on his sleeve and has You-Know-Who in his house and a psychopathic family and who was gone the morning after he'd kissed Seamus in the hospital wing.

"Hello lover," Seamus says with a grin and a quirked eyebrow. The look Malfoy sends his way is nothing short of vitriolic.

"Shut up," he hisses. "I am not your-" he breaks off and flushes, as if he's only just realised that Seamus is taking the piss. "Whatever."

"What do you want?" Seamus asks.

"Have you told anyone?" Malfoy asks bluntly. "About, you know."

"You kissing me?" Seamus supplies, and Malfoy's blush turns blotchy pink. "No, I haven't. Why?"

"Because no-one can find out," Malfoy says forcefully. "If they do-"

"I know," Seamus says abruptly. "Torture and death and all that jazz."

"_Finnigan._"

"I get it, alright?" Seamus interrupts with a sigh. "Keep your knickers on. I won't tell."

Malfoy nods. He doesn't say anything more, and shifts from foot to foot. He's as awkward as ever, too thin and too pointy. "So. What does this make us?"

Seamus rolls his eyes. "You're such a girl," he says.

Malfoy's face twists. "I am not."

"We kissed. I was off my face on pain potions and asked you to kiss me. It doesn't make us anything," Seamus says flatly. "We're on different sides in a war, Malfoy."

Malfoy rubs the back of his neck, beautifully uncomfortable. "I don't know what side I'm on," he mumbles, and Seamus feels something strange in his chest at the words. It's almost as if Malfoy really _isn't_ one of them anymore, what with all the things he says and does.

"Right, yeah. Because your family is basically being held hostage by the bad guy yet you're having a crisis of morals and have fallen madly in love with the sexy Irish hero?"

Malfoy narrows his eyes. "I thought Potter was the hero," he says flippantly.

Seamus stares belligerently back. "Have you ever kissed Potter?"

"Not fucking likely," Malfoy says with a snort. "And just for the record, one kiss doesn't mean I love you."

"Considering the circumstances, I'd say it means quite a lot."

Malfoy looks at Seamus, his expression guarded and careful. He pulls his bag more securely onto his shoulder, fiddling with the strap. Seamus watches his slender fingers and suddenly wants them on his skin again. He wants Malfoy's mouth on his again.

"See you around, Finnigan," Malfoy murmurs and then he's gone.

* * *

"Don't you _dare!_"

Seamus ducks the body bind that Parvati shoots his way. It hits the bookcase behind him and the few battered tomes fall to the floor, one squeaking indignantly.

"Oi! I get hit with enough hexes without you adding to the mix!"

"You go through that portrait hole and I am never going to talk you again," Parvati says, and Seamus has never seen her so angry. Oddly, she looks prettier than ever.

"Oh come off it," Seamus says, but her jaw is clenched and she's not backing down. Neville is watching the scene from across the common room, where he's sat with some first years. "The curfew is stupid."

"It's not about the curfew though, is it?" Parvati demands. "You're going out to find yet another way to piss Snape off."

Seamus frowns at her. "You never swear."

"Oh my god!" she shrieks, and she takes a step towards him. "How is it you're missing the point, _again? _How many more times do we have to patch you up? How many more times are we going to find you in the hospital wing? For goodness sake, Seamus – we know Dean is gone but there's no reason for you to act like you have a deathwish-"

Seamus feels his whole body go rigid with anger. Everyone knows better than to mention Dean to him, and he's a breath away from losing it with her for talking about him like that, like he's never coming back.

"Shut up," he says, voice low and dangerous. It's taking most of his self-control not to shout. "Dean is not _gone._ He's fine."

"How do you know that?" Parvati asks. The common room has fallen silent.

"He's fine," Seamus repeats, "and I'll forgive you all if you stop acting like everyone is already dead!"

He stops caring about hurting her feelings, his voice rising to a shout as he storms towards the portrait hole.

Parvati lets him go.

* * *

Seamus looks left and right, his heart thumping in his chest. The evening is quiet and dark and cold. Spring is well on the way but you'd never know for being inside Hogwarts; the sunlight barely seems to warm the air outside, let alone the depths of the castle.

He flexes his fingers and they still ache from being broken. Madam Pomfrey is running out of both Skele-grow and patience.

The coast is clear so he steps forwards, pulling his wand out. He looks at the blank expanse of wall and wonders what to write. Neville is normally the one to come up with the witty slogans – Seamus is thinking of something more to the point, like _'fuck off, Snape.'_

He knows this is stupid but since Parvati mentioned Dean he can't get rid of the horrid twist of feelings in his chest. He needs to do something, _anything_ that will take his mind off of it.

He raises his wand and touches it to the wall.

"Are you bloody kidding me?"

He jumps a mile in shock as the voice rings out, and he wheels around to see Malfoy is walking forwards him, looking furious. He breathes out unsteadily, almost laughing in relief and the knot in his chest easing as he realises he's not about to be cursed.

"I'm decorating," Seamus says brightly, unable to resist winding Malfoy up even at times like this."Care to join me?"

"Those Crucio's have messed with your brain," Malfoy snarls. "Get out of here, you idiot."

"Not a chance," Seamus replies defiantly.

Malfoy gapes at him. "I'm giving you a chance," he says. "For god's sake, take it."

"Just pretend you never saw me," Seamus shrugs and turns his back on Malfoy, facing the wall and raising his wand.

"Stop it," Malfoy says forcefully, and he grabs Seamus's arm and yanks him away, fingers digging in tightly. Seamus stumbles and then shoves Malfoy away.

"Fuck off," he snaps. "Leave me alone."

"I can't let you do it," Malfoy says, and he sounds more determined than Seamus has heard in weeks.

"Why, because you'd rather be putting up a framed portrait of You-know-Who?" Seamus says flippantly, and he knows it's a low blow considering what Malfoy has had to deal with at home.

Malfoy flinches. "No, because-"

He breaks off and whips around, looking panicked. Seamus opens his mouth but then he hears it too; raised voices and echoing footsteps heading their way.

"Run!"

Seamus doesn't need Malfoy to tell him what to do but now isn't the time for an argument. They both move at the same time, breaking into a run and legging it down the transfiguration corridor and away from the voices. Malfoy is a step behind him but running just as fast as Seamus.

"Astronomy tower," he gasps and Seamus sprints over to the door to the stairwell, yanking it open and darting through. The stairs are torture to keep running up but they don't stop, their footsteps and panting breaths echoing noisily against the stone.

A stitch is knifing through his ribs when they reach the top. Malfoy pushes past him and staggers to the wall, leaning forwards over it, his back heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Seamus watches him, leaning forwards with his hands on his knees.

"Fuckin' hell, you can run," he gasps out.

Malfoy nods breathlessly, his face pink. "So can you."

Slowly their breathing returns to normal. Malfoy raises his head from where he's had it pillowed on his forearms and turns around, leaning back on the wall. He runs his hand through his hair and then draws his wand, quietly conjuring some of the same glowing lights that Seamus has seen before.

"Who were we even running from?" Seamus breaks the silence.

Malfoy shrugs. One of the lights bobs down near his face and he bats it away with the back of his hand. "Probably Crabbe. He's on patrol."

"How's it feel running from your friends?" Seamus asks, and he walks over to stand next to Malfoy.

"He's not the same," Malfoy says after a while, his voice low and quiet, and he sounds genuinely _sad._ "He…he doesn't understand. He's just…I don't think he really understands how bad it is. He only sees what's right in front of his nose, he doesn't get the bigger picture."

"Looks like you're the only one who does," Seamus says, turning to lean back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest.

"I don't get how they can just think this is okay," Malfoy says, the words bursting out of him as if they've been held back for weeks. "Unforgivables shouldn't just be…I know before that I – I didn't give a fuck about them being unforgivable, but then _she_ turns up and starts aiming them at _me_ – I told Crabbe and Goyle, but they wouldn't – they've never been Crucio'd, so how the hell do they know what it feels like?"

"They don't," Seamus says quietly.

"Exactly. And the Carrows. They're even worse because they know what it feels like and they still-"

He breaks off, shaking his head. He bites his lip, looking contemplative. "You're not going to tell anyone if we talk, are you?"

"I didn't tell anyone we kissed," Seamus says.

Malfoy laughs shortly. "I suppose."

"Which would be worse? Them finding out we kissed or that we talked?"

"Both," Malfoy says, and he opens his mouth to speak again but no sound comes out. He goes – if possible – even paler and his eyes go wide and terrified and then Seamus hears the noise which has made Malfoy seize up in fright; footsteps on stone echoing up the stairwell. Malfoy twitches violently and breaks out of his stupor, looking around wildly as if looking for somewhere to hide. Seamus's heart has leapt into the base of his throat because there is nowhere to go up here except back down the stairs or over the edge of the tower.

"Quick, into the corner," Malfoy whispers frantically, and Seamus obediently backs up into the shadows. Malfoy points his wand at Seamus as Seamus flinches, raising his hands in front of his face. Before he can berate himself for showing even a modicum of fear, he feels the sensation of something cold trickling down his body. It feels strange but it doesn't hurt in any way, and as he looks down at his hands to check he still has all ten fingers he starts in surprise; his hands are now a mottled grey colour which matches the flagstones beneath his feet. Malfoy has turned him into a human chameleon.

He watches with wide eyes as Malfoy shoves his wand down the neck of his shirt and stands still, fidgeting uncomfortably before turning back to the wall. He places his hands on the stone and Seamus can see they're shaking.

"Who's up here?" a rough voice shouts and Seamus's heart sinks. Malfoy flinches but stays exactly where he is.

Amycus Carrow rounds the top step and Seamus holds his breath, pressing his palms to the cold stone behind him.

"What are you doing up here?" he asks suspiciously, eyes on Malfoy. "Reliving memories of your failure?"

Malfoy trembles. "Something like that."

Amycus steps forwards and his eyes sweep the tower. Seamus braces himself but the eyes pass him by without pause. Seamus exhaled shakily, his faith in Malfoy's charming ability renewed, and gratitude for the pointy, blond bastard swelling in his chest.

"Snape wants a word with you," Amycus turns his attention back to Malfoy. "Now."

"I'll go later," Malfoy says, looking steadfastly down at his hands.

"You'll go now," Amycus says dangerously.

"You can't make me," Malfoy bursts out, sounding humiliated and angry. "You're not the boss of me."

Amycus moves with startling speed; he strides of and grabs Malfoy's shoulder, roughly turning him round. He grabs Malfoy by his upper arms and Malfoy cries out in pain.

"I should pitch you off the top of this tower," he snarls, shaking Malfoy and pushing him back over the stone wall. Seamus clenches his fists and swallows thickly, feeling helpless and furious and panicking because somehow he can't bear the thought of anything happening to Malfoy, not now.

"Don't," Malfoy pleads, voice high pitched and wavering. "You can't."

"Can't I?" Amycus laughs and pushes Malfoy back further. His feet stumble on the floor and his spine is bent back so far that if Amycus lets him go he'll probably fall. Amycus presses him further and Malfoy makes a strangled whimper in the back of his throat, terrified.

"The only reason you are still alive is because the Dark Lord doesn't want to waste your precious blood," Amycus says, giving him another shake. "Come June you'll be married off and if you haven't knocked your wife up within a week…"

The threat is left unspoken, emphasised by Amycus leaning Malfoy back as far as he can go. Malfoy cries out and then his chest heaves in a strangled sob and he starts to cry.

"You make me sick," Amycus says, looking disgusted. "I'd off you now if I could get away with it."

He hauls Malfoy forwards and then drops him to the cold stone floor of the astronomy tower. He kicks out at him and then turns on his heel and leaves. Malfoy stays where he is, curled in a ball and sobbing so hard that his whole body shakes.

The moment Amycus is gone Seamus moves, drawing his wand. He finites the charm that Malfoy used to hide him and then casts a notice-me-not charm on the stairwell. It's not much but it's all he can do.

He walks over to Malfoy and kneels down next to him, feeling something horrible twisting through his stomach. It's like seeing Ginny cry and thinking about Dean being gone all in one. He dithers for a moment, words failing him for the first time he can remember.

"Stop crying," he opts for saying, and grabs Malfoy and hauls him into a sitting position. "Come on." He pulls his sleeve down over his hand and roughly wipes Malfoy's face. Malfoy coughs and takes a deep shuddering breath and pulls himself together. He pushes himself up onto his knees so Seamus doesn't have to hold him up, and then wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

"You didn't have to do that," Seamus says, his voice low. "You could have said you'd chased me up here."

"What, and you get cursed again?" Malfoy says, his voice shaking.

Seamus fights the urge to touch Malfoy's hair for about three seconds, and then reaches out to brush his fingers over the closely cropped hairs above Malfoy's ear. Malfoy doesn't shy away or arch into the touch, he just blinks and says nothing.

"You're such a…." Seamus says helplessly.

"Mess?" Malfoy offers, laughing thickly.

"Well, that," Seamus concedes. "But that's not what I meant. That was pretty fucking brave of you to take the wrap for that one. He could have pitched you off the tower."

Malfoy swallows and Seamus watches his adams-apple move in his throat. Malfoy rubs his face with his palm, covering his eyes. "It was the right thing to do," he says, but he doesn't sound sure. "I don't know."

"I didn't think it was in your nature to do things for other people."

"It's not," Malfoy says bitterly, lowering his hand. "But looking out for myself isn't working out that well, so what the fuck. I might as well turn to rescuing Gryffindors."

Seamus laughs, the sound as bright and unexpected as Malfoy making a joke. "You're an enigma, is what you are," he says and then he kisses him. Malfoy makes a startled noise in the back of his throat but then he kisses Seamus back and it's so much better than last time.

Malfoy opens his mouth under Seamus's, his trembling hands coming up to cup the back of Seamus's neck, and Seamus gently touches his tongue against Malfoy's and Malfoy breathes in sharply through his nose before responding. Their mouths move together and Seamus fists Malfoy's jumper in his hand and pulls him closer, not even caring that it's Malfoy he's kissing. He aches with want and he's missed this so much; missed the way another bloke feels against him.

"I-" Malfoy breathes against his mouth, but Seamus shuts him up with a kiss.

"Don't you dare ruin the moment by talking," Seamus says, pressing their foreheads together.

"Alright," Malfoy whispers, and he gently kisses Seamus again. Seamus isn't in the mood for gentle. He just wants more – he's filled with madness which just wants as much of Malfoy as he can get, if only to forget about the rest of the world for a while. Malfoy seems to understand, he kisses Seamus back hard, and it's messy with clacking teeth and bumping noses but they don't – can't – stop. Malfoy's tongue is in Seamus's mouth, thrusting crudely and god, it's making Seamus crazy with _want_.

Malfoy tears himself away, panting, his forehead pressed to Seamus's. His eyes are screwed tightly shut. "This is," he breathes. "This is so stupid-"

"Yeah I know," Seamus replies, his hand on the back of Malfoy's neck. "But what are you gonna do?"

Malfoy laughs weakly and Seamus kisses him again. Malfoy doesn't stop him.

* * *

Seamus falls back onto his bed, body exhausted but mind still wide awake. He doesn't bother to check what time it is; he knows it's ridiculously late and he can't bring himself to care. His whole body is still on edge from the time he's spent kissing Draco Malfoy, kissing until they both had swollen lips and erections that neither had managed to hide for very long.

He doesn't know what to think of it. On the most basic level it had felt _good_; the thrumming of his body even half an hour after they've stopped kissing is proof enough of that. Half of him had been telling him to stop, that snogging Malfoy was a monumentally bad idea, that he couldn't be trusted and that Seamus should be running as fast as possible in the other direction.

The other half couldn't ignore how Malfoy had lied to protect him, yet again. He couldn't ignore the way Malfoy didn't seem to want to commit to a side; even though he wasn't one of the good guys, he couldn't exactly be called a bad guy either. He thinks about what Malfoy had said earlier, his attempt at conversation, full of broken endings and false starts. He wonders if Malfoy would be happy to join the Death Eaters if he'd not been on the receiving end of a few unforgivables, and then decides it doesn't matter. Malfoy _isn't_ happy about it, and that's a start. Maybe if Malfoy starts to question what they're doing, maybe he'll also start questioning the why. Seamus doesn't know how deeply ingrained all that pure-blood supremacy bullshit is – for all he knows Malfoy still believes it and is just objecting to the pain and inconvenience.

But then again, Malfoy knows full well that Seamus is an out and proud half-blood, and it doesn't seem to have stopped him kissing him, _again_.

Seamus draws the curtains of his bed with a flick of his wand, wondering if he should tell Neville what has happened. He decides against it almost instantly; Malfoy is his secret to keep and he doesn't know if Neville would understand. Yeah, they've all acknowledged that there's something not right with Malfoy, but Seamus doesn't think that would extend to the others being alright with Seamus snogging him.

Another part of him doesn't want to get Malfoy in trouble. He knows that the more people he tells, the more dangerous it gets. If word got back to the other side that Malfoy has been anything but horrible to Seamus, he's certain Malfoy will have hell to pay. And considering the hell that is currently residing in Malfoy's home… for once keeping his mouth shut seems like the more sensible option.

He pulls his jumper, tie and shirt off, wondering if Malfoy is already asleep or not. His mind immediately provides him an image of Malfoy in bed, lying back with his eyes open, maybe thinking about all the same things that Seamus is.

Another image quickly follows that one; Malfoy on his bed and completely naked, unable to stop thinking about kissing Seamus, body taut and tense from the heated snogging, hand slipping down his body to take hold of his prick-

At least _those_ feelings towards Malfoy are easy enough to decipher. Seamus draws in a shaking breath and then reaches for the button on his trousers, slipping a hand into his underwear and biting his lip.

He tosses off hurriedly, giving in and deciding not to care that it's Draco fucking Malfoy he's wanking over. He thinks of Malfoy's tongue flicking against his own and the hands that ran distractedly over his shoulders. He imagines what would have happened if he'd touched Malfoy's prick, reaching out to rub his fingers against the hardness that he'd caused-

He comes with a shuddering gasp, an imagined picture of pale hands working him burning in the forefront of his mind.

* * *

_Don't look at him. Don't look at him. Don't look at him._

Seamus stares down at his notes, repeating the phrase over and over in his head. He knows Malfoy is sitting directly opposite him again, and it's less than twenty-four hours since they kissed. Seamus wants to look up and wink, maybe shoot a cheeky smile in Malfoy's direction but he can't. Trust this fucking war to take all the fun out of flirting as well.

He lasts a whole ten minutes before he gives in. As McGonagall turns to look at Parvati's work, he looks up at Malfoy and his stomach jolts as their eyes meet.

Heart thudding, he looks away, realising that he'd do it all again, no questions asked.

* * *

"Malfoy was watching you again," Neville says as he sits down beside Seamus at the Gryffindor table. "During Charms."

Seamus shrugs. "Maybe he fancies me."

Neville snorts with tired laughter and turns to get himself some juice. "Yeah, right."

Seamus smiles faintly, picking at the crust of his sandwich. Neville obviously has no clue, but that's fine with him. He wonders if Dean would have worked it out by now if he were here. Under normal circumstances, probably not. Dean's always too bothered about trying to steal his girlfriend back from Harry to pay any attention to Seamus's love life, or lack thereof.

"What are you smiling about?" Neville asks, frown evident in his tone.

"Nothing" Seamus says, not wanting to share the mild amusement he gets from thinking that maybe his kissing Malfoy would be enough to make Dean pause in his Ginny watching and ask _'you what?'_

* * *

"What the fuck is this?"

Seamus turns at the sound of a familiar and oh-so annoyed drawl, leaning back on the parapet of the astronomy tower. He raises an eyebrow at Malfoy, who is standing at the top of the stairway and holding a piece of parchment in his hand.

"A note asking you to meet me?"

It's technically more than that, but Seamus doesn't say that bit out loud. It's a challenge of sorts considering the meeting place; he wanted to see if Malfoy had the stones to come back up here after what happened last time.

"You fucking idiot," Malfoy snaps, all bristling vitriol. "What if someone else had got it? Your fucking kneazle-scratch handwriting wouldn't be hard to match-"

"Shut up, I'm not that stupid. I charmed it so only you can read it."

Malfoy visibly deflates. He looks down at the note. "Oh," he says, voice small, and then tries to regroup and claw back some of his ire. "But why did you ask me to meet you? What if we get caught?"

Seamus ignores the second question. He pushes away from the wall and walks slowly over towards Malfoy, who seems almost frozen in place, watching Seamus slowly advance.

"Why do you think I asked you to meet me?" Seamus asks. "I can't very well snog you in class, can I?"

Malfoy's mouth falls open in disbelief and Seamus's mind instantly goes to the gutter. He pulls it out with effort and folds his arms across his chest. Christ, but he wants that pointy, blond bastard.

"I thought it was a one off." Malfoy breaks the silence, looking unsure.

Seamus shrugs. "Do you want it to be a one-off?"

A cleft appears between Malfoy's eyebrows. He frowns and looks down at his feet for a moment before looking up. His expression still hesitant, he steps forwards. When Seamus doesn't move, he steps forwards again, close enough so they can touch.

"I still think this is stupid," he says helplessly, and Seamus unfolds his arms and reaches for him.

"So do I," he says honestly and then they're kissing, holding onto each other like they never want to let go.

* * *

Seamus spots Malfoy long before Malfoy spots him. They're walking along the corridor towards each other, both caught in the flow of students making their way to class. There are no teachers – fake or otherwise – about so Seamus keeps his eyes on Malfoy. He looks thinner.

Malfoy spots him when they're only ten feet apart. His grey eyes lock on Seamus's, blinking slowly. Seamus raises an eyebrow marginally and Malfoy nods almost imperceptibly.

_Later?_

_Yes._

They look away, everything that needs to be said accomplished with a few looks. Seamus pulls his bag onto his shoulder more securely and then as they pass, he feels long fingers brush deliberately against his.

Malfoy is gone and out of sight by the time Seamus realises that he's in major trouble. In his gut he senses that inexplicably, Malfoy has turned from a simple puzzle into a major conundrum.

Somehow, Seamus has gone from being mildly intrigued by Malfoy to being completely hooked. It's no longer about the casual snogging, the dicing with danger, the rebellious streak that compels him to return to Malfoy again and again. Now it seems to be about the concern in Malfoy's eyes when he sees Seamus with fresh bruises, the way he ignores the Carrows and still doesn't join in with the bullying. Seamus realises that it's about the way Malfoy brushes his fringe out of his eyes with shaking fingers, the curve of his jaw and the way his legs seem to go on forever.

Bollocks.

* * *

"You haven't told anyone, have you?" Seamus pants against Malfoy's mouth as desperate hands clutch at his waist. Malfoy pauses and pulls back, mouth swollen and hair messed from Seamus's hands.

"You think I'm stupid?"

"Occasionally," Seamus says. "So you haven't?"

"No," Malfoy says, and kisses him again. It lasts all of ten seconds before Malfoy's brain catches up and he leans back against with a frown. "Why?"

Seamus shrugs, hands on Malfoy's hips and thumbs tracing his hipbones. "Snape keeps watching me."

"That's because you keep writing shit over his walls," Malfoy says, and Seamus doesn't know if Malfoy is being stupid or wilfully ignorant. He suspects it's the latter.

Malfoy captures his mouth again and as always, Seamus forgets all about everything but the taste of Malfoy's mouth and the way he breathes, short and breathless and like he never wants to stop.

Seamus isn't sure _he_ ever wants to stop.

Shaking fingers move across Seamus's hip and brush his belt buckle, and Seamus gaps into the kiss, his pulse surging. Malfoy's fingers have been wandering more boldly each time they manage to steal time together, and despite being in the middle of a war Seamus is so fucking horny he just wants to shove his hands down Malfoy's trousers and be done with it.

"Yes," he breathes. "Do it."

"Do what?" Malfoy pants in reply, and Seamus isn't sure if he's being thick or deliberately coy. When he catches the brief flash of a smirk he realises it's the latter. It makes a thrill run down his spine; Malfoy's smirk has been noticeable by its absence lately and he's oddly thankful to see it.

Malfoy doesn't seem to need an answer. His fingers move again and slowly, agonisingly slowly, pull Seamus's belt open. They both look down, watching his fingers as they reach for the button of his trousers.

Heart thudding in his chest, Seamus looks up and meets Malfoy's eyes. Malfoy doesn't look away; he keeps his eyes locked on Seamus's as his fingers flip open the button on Seamus's trousers and slowly lower the zip. It's another challenge – always a challenge with them – as Seamus silently dares Malfoy to do it.

Dexterous fingers slide into his trousers, into his underwear and Seamus finally shuts his eyes, head falling back against the wall behind. Malfoy crowds close, his mouth breathing unsteadily against Seamus's.

_No going back now, _he thinks in some remote part of his brain that isn't consumed by the feel of Malfoy's hand on him. He's not sure if that's a bad thing or a good thing, all things considered.

* * *

"Hurts?"

"What do you think?" Seamus asks through gritted teeth. He's sat on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom that Moaning Myrtle used to haunt before she ran away, and yes, it fucking hurts.

Malfoy carefully dabs at the cut that nearly took Seamus's ear off, the hex slicing down the side of his face like a knife. He's kneeling down next to Seamus's crossed legs, wand pointed at his face. Seamus can't even be bothered to find it funny how that no longer makes him think he's going to be cursed.

"One, two –_sana volneratio._"

Seamus yelps and jerks away. He clamps a hand to his ear. "What the fuck?" he asks, reaching out and shoving sharply at Malfoy's shoulder. "You're supposed to go on three!"

"I did," Malfoy says, shoving him back indignantly. "If I'd have _said_ three I would have _gone_ on four."

Seamus glares at him but doesn't snap back because the pain in his ear _has_ lessened considerably. He gingerly fingers it, feeling a scabbed over cut where the open gash was.

"I didn't want to heal it completely," Malfoy says, reaching out to grab Seamus's chin, turning his face so he can see the wound. "Not many people would know how to fix that. It'd be suspicious if it just disappeared."

Seamus nods. Malfoy puts his wand away and sits back, crossing his legs and slumping down. He rests his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, suddenly looking a million miles away. His face looks vacant and pale, like he normally does when he's not with Seamus. Seamus has noticed this happening more and more frequently over the past couple of weeks, and he wonders why.

He doesn't ask. Instead, he reaches out and presses his fingertips to Malfoy's bottom lip. Malfoy blinks and seems to return to himself, gently biting down on Seamus's fingertips with perfectly straight white teeth. Seamus shivers as Malfoy's tongue traces the edge of his fingernail, the sort of bold move that Malfoy only ever reveals when the mood turns sexual. It's as if there's a stronger, more confident Malfoy hiding somewhere under the layers of fear and indecision.

Seamus pulls his hand away from Malfoy's mouth and slips it onto the back of Malfoy's neck, tugging him close. Their mouths meet and as always, Seamus forgets all about everything else in the world but Malfoy. He forgets about the cracked tiles and the dripping taps around them, forgets about how stupid it is that this is the only place they can vaguely call theirs.

Malfoy seems oddly attached to the abandoned bathroom, but Seamus has no plans to ask him why, especially not when Malfoy is breathing heavily into his mouth, ragged and full of need. Seamus kisses him hard, grabbing his bony wrists and yanking him forwards, pulling and tugging until Malfoy ends up in his lap, long legs either side of Seamus's hips and crotch tantalisingly close to Seamus's own.

Seamus holds him close as they kiss frantically and desperately, his hands on Malfoy's back and Malfoy's on his cheeks, elbows pressed tightly between them as he arches his back just enough. Seamus slides his hands down Malfoy's back and yanks him closer; they both gasp as their burgeoning erections fleetingly press together. Fuck, Seamus hopes Malfoy has enough presence of mind to get his dick out so they don't end up coming in their trousers like they're fourteen, _again._

He remembers the day before yesterday, hidden in that alcove on the fourth floor with Malfoy's cool fingers wrapped around him, tossing him off as Malfoy swallowed Seamus's gasps with his mouth. He remembers the first time he actually touched Malfoy, skin on skin, here in this very bathroom. He remembers Malfoy's mouth, hanging open as he panted, eyes screwed shut as Seamus groped his way into his trousers, jerking him roughly and unable to fully believe what he was actually doing.

"Christ," Malfoy whispers against his mouth, voice broken in a way Seamus can't figure out. He slides a hand into Seamus's hair, gripping painfully. His cheek presses against Seamus's, a hint of stubble roughly scratching his skin. Seamus tries to yank Malfoy closer again, willing to concede and get off just by frotting against him if Malfoy is planning on being difficult, but then Malfoy whispers two words that make him freeze in place, hands grasping as Malfoy's waist.

"_Fuck me._"

Seamus pulls back in shock. It seems that Malfoy has found yet another way to surprise him after all. He's currently staring at Seamus's shoulder, determinedly avoiding eye contact.

"Yerwhat?"

"You heard me," Malfoy says, voice trembling. His eyes flick up to Seamus's for a moment and Seamus is astounded to realise that he'd deadly serious. The taps drip behind them, soft _plinks_ of sound in the background.

"You want me to…? Here? Now?"

"Unless you're scared," Malfoy says, a mulish tilt to his chin, bravado almost masking his fear. He sounds lost and desperate in a way Seamus has never encountered before.

"Are you sure?" Seamus asks, and Malfoy nods.

"Yes," he whispers in that same broken voice, kissing Seamus's mouth once more. "Yes."

Seamus doesn't ask again. He's eighteen, for fucks sake – he's aching with want and he's not going to turn down the opportunity for a shag, especially not when Malfoy has _asked_ him to do it. Malfoy slides back out of Seamus's lap and undoes his belt, hands shaking. Oddly, Seamus feels like he should be doing it for him.

Instead, he goes to unbutton his own trousers, pulse thudding in his ears and something fluttering in his stomach. He doesn't think he's nervous – he's done this a couple of times before and besides, even if he hadn't, he's seen enough porn to know what he's doing.

It briefly crosses his mind to ask Malfoy if _he's_ done this before. He decides it doesn't matter; his mouth goes dry as he watches Malfoy push his trousers and pants down in one go. His school-shirt is almost long enough to cover his crotch but Seamus still gets a glimpse of his prick, his own jerking in response.

He reaches for Malfoy's trousers and pulls them completely down and off, giving his underwear the same treatment. Malfoy's cheeks are pink, blotchy with embarrassment as he tries to cover himself with the bottom of his shirt. Hands shaking, Seamus pushes his own trousers and boxers down to mid-thigh. He's about to ask Malfoy how he wants to do this when Malfoy turns around, shuffling on his knees and looking nervously back over his shoulder. He kneels on the edge of his discarded robes, swallows visibly and then leans down, hands on the floor in front of him.

Seamus's head is spinning. He reaches out and traces a hand down the side of Malfoy's thigh before pushing his shirt up his back, almost to his shoulder blades. The sight is devastating; all that pale skin on show, just waiting for Seamus. He can't help but stare at Malfoy's arse, in awe at how fucking _pale_ it is. He wants it so badly he's trembling with excitement and anticipation.

Grabbing his wand, Seamus kneels behind Malfoy, for now sitting back on his heels. He runs his fingers down the back of Malfoy's thigh and Malfoy shudders.

"Just get on with it," he says, sounding strangled. He dips his head, breathing heavily in and out through his mouth.

Seamus obliges, silently conjuring a palm-full of lube with _that_ charm Ron had taught them all in fourth year, courtesy of a plethora of knowledge from older brothers. It's cool on his skin and Seamus doesn't waste any time, lathering the crease between Malfoy's arse-cheeks with copious amounts of the viscous gel. Malfoy gasps loudly and the sound echoes off the tiles. Neither speak; the only sound aside from the dripping tap is Malfoy's gasps and two sets of laboured breathing.

When Seamus slides his first finger into Malfoy's hole, Malfoy's whole body jerks and Seamus bites his lip. It slides smoothly in and out, deeper and deeper. Probably far too soon, he adds another and Malfoy makes a choked noise in the back of his throat, half cry and half whine.

Seamus keeps at it, letting Malfoy get used to the intrusion, his hole pulsing and fluttering around Seamus's slick fingers, his body naturally resisting the intrusion even as he tries to relax.

"Have you done this before?" Seamus asks, carefully angling his fingers before trying to slip in a third. He can't quite manage it. "Shite, will you relax?"

"I'm not in the mood for your fucking small talk," Malfoy bites out, and then gasps as Seamus applies slightly more pressure than he'd originally planned, pushing the third finger in. "Fuck."

"That was the idea," Seamus says breathlessly, mesmerised by the sight of Malfoy's hole stretching to accommodate his fingers, the rim a deep, angry shade of pink that he's never seen on Malfoy's skin before.

"Just shut up," Malfoy manages. "Just fucking _shut up."_

Seamus does; not because Malfoy said to but because he wants to concentrate. He grabs his wand with his free hand and casts another charm directly onto his prick, lubricant slipping down the length and dripping to the floor. He blindly tosses his wand aside and takes himself in hand, running his fist along the length of his dick, smearing lubricant everywhere.

He rises up on his knees, not caring about anything but _this,_ right here and now. Malfoy's body tenses as he feels Seamus rise up behind him. Seamus takes a deep breath and pulls his fingers free from Malfoy's body, taking his hip in hand instead. Malfoy's spine arches and flexes as Seamus grasps his prick and slowly, agonisingly slowly, pushes into Malfoy's arse.

Malfoy's cry is muffled as if he's biting down hard on something – must be his lip because there aren't any pillows or bedding. Seamus doesn't stop. He just pushes his hips forwards as steadily as he can, mouthing 'fuck' repeatedly and only stopping when he's fully inside, his thighs pressed against the back of Malfoy's.

He pulls back and pushes in again and Malfoy swears violently, his voice breaking on the sound. His fingers curl in the fabric of his robes, clenching so hard his knuckles go white. Seamus wishes he could see the look on his face. He rocks back and forth, fighting the urge just to thrust as fast and hard as he can.

He curls his hands around the sharp ridges of Malfoy's hipbones, his panting so loud in the otherwise silence of the room. He moves one hand further, around Malfoy's hip, across his abdomen. His trousers slip further down his legs but he ignores them, fumbling for Malfoy's crotch.

He's gone soft, and Seamus slows his pace as he turns his attention to taking Malfoy's mind off the discomfort. An odd thrill runs through him as he fondles Malfoy's flaccid cock and he swallows, wishing that Malfoy would hurry the fuck up and get hard again because it feels _strange_ to be touching someone when they're not.

Thankfully, Malfoy's body responds. Seamus can hear him breathing heavily through his mouth as his erection returns, thickening in Seamus's hand. Seamus moves his hand to tease the head of Malfoy's prick between his fingers and Malfoy's body jolts beneath his, just before Malfoy takes a deep breath and pushes _back_ onto Seamus's dick.

They moan in tandem and suddenly Malfoy has got the hang of it, pushing his hips back and forth, fucking himself back onto Seamus's prick as Seamus pulls at his. "Yes," Seamus chokes out, knowing he can't take much more. "Oh god, fuck, _yes._"

Malfoy pushes back harder, and Seamus has never been more thankful for the bastard's natural grace and sense of movement. Even on his hands and knees Malfoy moves in a way like no other. He spreads his knees marginally and cries out loudly as Seamus pushes into him, one of his hands moving to join Seamus's fingers on his prick.

"Go harder," he gasps desperately, fingers clutching at Seamus's. "I need - I feel like I need more-"

Seamus obliges, snapping his hips forwards with enough force to knock Malfoy off balance. He slips forwards, his weight now resting on his forearm, his face hidden in the back of his wrist and muffling his cries.

"Can you come?" Seamus gasps out, letting go of Malfoy's dick to place both hands on his arsecheeks, pushing them together as best he can. He watches his prick slide in and out of Malfoy's body and feels a thrill run down his spine.

"I don't know," Malfoy chokes. "I don't know-"

Seamus decides to hedge his bets and go for it. "Keep wanking yourself," he pants, picking up his pace again and making Malfoy keen. "Come on, Malfoy, keep going. Think about me fucking your arse, come on, push back-"

He slams in and out as hard as he dares, their skin slapping together each time he thrusts forwards. Malfoy is crying out continually underneath him and Seamus watches his elbow move as he furiously tosses himself off.

"Come on," Malfoy chokes and slides his knees apart even further. "Fuck my arse, come on, _harder_-"

The words are barely out of his mouth before his whole body jerks and tenses. His hole clenches and pulses around Seamus's dick and Seamus cries out, reaching for Malfoy's prick and feeling wet warmth all over Malfoy's still slowly moving hand.

It's enough to push him over the edge; thinking about Malfoy begging for it and coming from being taken hard and fast up the arse sets off a spark in Seamus's gut. He can't do anything but cry out in warning and then he's coming harder than he can remember ever doing before, pushing as deep as he can into Malfoy's body, grinding his hips in a small circle as he rides out the last of his climax.

And then it's suddenly all over, and the room is once again silent save for the dripping tap. Malfoy is shivering under him, face hidden from Seamus's view. Seamus's knees are aching something fierce and he winces as he shuffles back, his prick sliding free from Malfoy's body.

Malfoy moves immediately, turning to grab his underwear and his wand. His cheeks are flaming red and he doesn't meet Seamus's eyes as he pulls his pants back on, flinching as he does. The silence stretches out as he picks up his wand, muttering a hasty cleaning charm before putting his trousers back on, his movements now awkward as he pulls them up.

Seamus belatedly looks down and realises he's still half naked. He quickly pulls his trousers up, buckling his belt. His thighs feel tacky with sweat and lube, and his hand is sticky with drying come.

Malfoy tucks in his shirt and grabs his robes, bundling them into a ball before standing up. Seamus stands up too, not saying anything. The look on Malfoy's face tells him that this is not the time for any banter.

"You okay?" he opts for asking. Malfoy looks up at him, expression strangely guarded, and then nods.

"Are you?"

Seamus sends him a blank look. "Of course I am. After that I'm more than okay."

Malfoy blinks at the admission, and the ghost of a weak smile hitches the corner of his mouth, before it fades as if it were never there. He looks at Seamus uncertainly, and then quickly steps forwards and kisses his cheek. He mumbles something that could have been _'thank you'_ and then leaves without looking back.

The next day, when Seamus finds out that Malfoy had gone home for the Easter holidays, he understands and wants to kick himself. A heavy, desolate part of him wonders if Malfoy will even come back, and he regrets that the last memory he has of him is nothing more than a ten-minute shag in a filthy, abandoned bathroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part four**

The corridors are crowded and noisier than they have been in weeks, full of returning students and their friends, huddling together, thankful that everyone has returned – or remained – in one piece. The moment won't last; Seamus knows for a fact Snape has told the Carrows to disperse any lingering students within the hour. He knows this because he's taken to eavesdropping whenever he can, hiding well out of sight and desperate to hear any useful information.

He pushes through the crowd, impatient. Word is that Ginny hasn't come back. Neville's in bits and Seamus had wanted to lamp him one for falling apart. He hadn't of course, but the temptation had been there, which is why he's now pacing the corridors, trying to vent his frustration.

He tells himself he's not doing it to try and find Malfoy.

He reaches the end of the corridor and despite what he's been telling himself his heart sinks as he realises he's not spotted the familiar shock of blond hair. He swallows thickly, not daring to wonder why Malfoy hasn't made it back.

Soon enough, his anger at Neville has all but vanished, replaced with anger at the Death Eaters and their so called _Lord_. How are they getting away with this? Who the fuck is supposed to be standing up to them? Someone _has _to be-

Without warning Seamus feels a tendril of magic wrap around his shoulders and tighten, jerking him sideways as if a rope has been tied around him, pulling taught enough to yank him off balance. He cries out as he stumbles and throws an awkward hand out to stop himself falling and staggers straight through a tapestry into an alcove.

Hands grab his shoulders and he looks up into a familiar face, his heart skipping inside his ribcage.

"What the fuck are you doing hiding in an alcove?" he almost shouts, adrenaline and relief and god knows what coursing through him. "Jesus fucking Christ, Malfoy."

He falters as his eyes and brain finally catch up with his mouth. He stares at Malfoy, eyes wide.

"Don't shout," Malfoy says, his voice hoarse. He twitches, more violently than Seamus has seen in a long time, but that's not what Seamus is staring at. Malfoy's face is ashen and covered in badly healed cuts, all over his cheek, nose and chin. Some are small and shallow but some are almost an inch long and look deeper, more painful. It looks as if someone has smashed a glass in his face.

"What happened?" Seamus asks, horrified.

"Never mind that," Malfoy says urgently. "Thomas is alive."

Seamus's brain stops working for a moment, and everything else in the world disappears. The words ring in his ears above the thudding of his pulse, and then he manages a "what?"

"I saw him," Malfoy says urgently. "And Potter, and Weasley and Granger as well - they got brought to the Manor by snatchers and they escaped, but you can't tell anyone I told you-"

Seamus grabs Malfoy's shoulders and shakes him. "You swear to Merlin you're telling the truth?" he asks frantically. "You saw him?"

Malfoy nods emphatically. "_Yes._"

"And he got away? How?! What about Harry?"

Malfoy falters for the first time, his excitement fading. He looks down at the floor. "Potter stole my wand," he says dully.

Seamus gapes at him, and his eyes flicker over the cuts on his face again. "Please do not tell me that Harry did that to you."

Malfoy shakes his head. He raises a hand as if to touch one of the cuts and then thinks better of it. "A chandelier fell," he says. "Smashed and the glass went everywhere. Aunt Bella wouldn't let anyone heal them, said that I didn't deserve it."

"Why the fuck not?" Seamus asks fiercely.

"I had three wands in my hand," Malfoy says, looking down and sounding bitter. "_Three,_ and I still got beaten by him. She said I was pitiful to have let Potter take them. Never mind that I had a face full of glass. I couldn't even see him, let alone…"

Seamus doesn't want to hear anymore. He grabs Malfoy in a fierce hug, one arm tight around his neck. "I thought they'd killed you when you didn't appear in that corridor," he whispers, and one of Malfoy's arms wraps around his waist in return. "You fuckin' idiot."

He doesn't even know how to feel. To know Dean is alive is the best thing he's heard all year. To not know where he's gone makes him want to die. To know Harry, Ron and Hermione are still out there fighting makes him ridiculously relieved. Seeing Malfoy's face makes him angry and upset, but at the same time he hates that Malfoy is still dithering between right and wrong. Malfoy _knows_ what the right thing is, Seamus is sure of it, so why can't he just _do_ it.

"Get your arse to the hospital wing," he finally says, pulling back.

Malfoy doesn't bother to argue. He just nods, but doesn't make any effort to move.

"Go on then," Seamus says, impatient. "I'm not escorting you up there."

Malfoy scowls. "I know that," he says, and then hesitates. "I know you don't take any notice of me," he says at his feet. "But is there any chance that you'll consider behaving this term?"

"Not a chance," Seamus replies automatically, then eyes Malfoy suspiciously. "Why?"

Malfoy scratches at one of the cuts on his cheek. "Since the mess with Potter escaping…they're upping the ante," he says carefully. "So I've heard, anyway."

"What do you mean, _upping the ante?_" Seamus asks warily, but Malfoy just shrugs. Seamus bites back a frustrated retort, knowing Malfoy is risking his neck by telling him that much anyway.

"Alright," he says. "Thanks for the vaguest warning I've ever heard in my life."

"Take it or leave it," Malfoy shrugs, and then steps away, disappearing through the tapestry and leaving Seamus alone.

* * *

It doesn't take Seamus long to realise that Malfoy was right about the fuckers upping the ante. The term has barely started when he finds himself carrying a sobbing second year back up to the tower in the dead of night. Apparently their mum works for the ministry – or had done up until that morning.

"Just stop crying, calm down," Seamus says desperately, cursing himself as he realises he has no idea how to talk to a sobbing twelve year old. "Come on. Back to the Tower."

The kid shakes his head, still crying. He'd taken his first ever Crucio that evening and his legs won't hold him up. It about breaks Seamus's heart, but he doesn't have time to stop and think because they've got to get back to the tower. If they get caught loitering they'll be in even more trouble.

"It's not far, come on," he pleads. "If we get back Parvati will fix you right up. You know, my friend? The pretty one?"

The boy draws in a shuddering breath, wiping his face on his sleeve. "She is pretty," he chokes out.

"Yeah, and she'll take good care of you," Seamus says, trying to coax the boy to his feet. "But we need to go now."

The boy draws in a jagged, shuddering breath. He wipes his nose on his hand and nods, and tries his best to walk with Seamus back to the tower. Seamus has to half carry him but it doesn't matter; now the boy is trying rather than just slumping down as deadweight at Seamus's feet.

They make it back in one piece and without being caught. Neville greets them and immediately sends for Parvati. Seamus holds onto the kid as they wait, and exchanges a worried glance with Neville over the top of the boy's head. Neville shakes his head almost imperceptibly, turning away and pressing a hand to his forehead.

Seamus ignores him and instead turns to the boy who is still curled up on his knee, leaning heavily against Seamus's chest.

"Okay?" he asks, the question probably completely redundant. Dean was always better at dealing with the little ones than he is.

The boys shakes his head. "No," he whispers, voice small.

Seamus sighs. "Me neither, mate. Me neither."

* * *

Seamus tries to pick up his goblet but his hand is shaking violently and he gives it up as a bad job. Across the Hall he hears laughter, and looks up to see Pansy Parkinson and Vincent Crabbe pointing at him, shaking their hands in front of them before collapsing into laugher again. He scowls, flips them the middle finger and then turns back to his breakfast.

He's not really bothered; his stunt yesterday had been worth the hex that was responsible for his current shakes. He'd decided to lighten up their compulsory Muggle studies session by loudly singing as many of the crude football songs that Dean had taught him last year. Everyone had found it hysterical. Everyone but Alecto Carrow, that was.

Swooshing above his head signals the arrival of the post, and he ignores it until an owl lands directly in front of him with a _thwump_.

He pokes it irritably. "Fuck off," he frowns, but it doesn't move. It just hoots balefully, and then he realises that it's a school owl. He hasn't sent any post out of the castle to be replied to, which can only mean that someone at Hogwarts is sending him a message in a very long-winded manner.

Curious, he reaches for the note attached to its leg. He glances around, looking for a tell-tale flash of white-blond hair. It's nowhere in sight, so he turns his attention back to the note.

_Tell Longbottom to keep his head down. They're watching him._

It isn't signed but he knows exactly who it's from. As he re-reads the words they start to fade, and soon enough the parchment is blank, all evidence of the communication gone.

Seamus shoves the blank piece of parchment into his pocket and looks about, slightly worried. He's not missed Neville so far this morning, but now he thinks about it he realises that he's normally here by now. He glances towards the staff table and his heart sinks.

Neither of the Carrows are there, and Snape is watching Seamus with a undeniable look of curiosity on his sallow face.

_Fuck,_ Seamus mouths to himself, feeling a horrible twist of foreboding in his gut. All in all, it's not a welcome thought to realise that _Malfoy_ is the only person in the castle who gives a shit about their wellbeing.

Unless both Malfoy and Seamus's instincts are very wrong, he suspects things are about to get

_really_ nasty.

* * *

"Tell me who let him out of detention," Alecto snarls, her face inches from Seamus's. "Who unlocked the door?"

"A ghost," Seamus deadpans, and Alecto raises her wand. Something white-hot cuts across the bridge of his nose and he cries out. "Son of a bitch," he gasps. Blood pours down his nose, trickling over his mouth and down his chin. He spits the metallic taste away.

"Tell me where he's gone," she says slowly.

Seamus laughs. "Not a bloody chance."

Another flash of something white-hot cuts across his forehead. He gasps, vision swimming and stomach threatening to heave at the pain. He shuts his eyes as the world tilts underneath him, going black at the edges. He feels his eyes rolling back into his head.

"Enough," an echoing voice says. "You're wasting your time with him. Get him out of here. No, Crabbe, stay here. You can deal with Longbottom, if we ever catch him. Draco – take Finnigan back to the tower."

The ropes around him slacken and hands grab at him as he slumps forwards, hauling him to his feet. He's okay apart from being shocked and a little wobbly on his feet, and the fact he can't see because of all the blood in his eyes. He reaches out and a hand grabs his wrist, tugging him along. He tries to wipe his eyes but it hurts so he gives up and staggers along. It helps that he knows exactly whose fingers are curled around his wrist.

"Nice to see you, Malfoy," he says hoarsely when he thinks they're far enough away as not to be overheard. "Even though I can't actually see you."

Malfoy stops, and Seamus feels a hand on his arm, pushing him around. "Come here," he says roughly. "Wait. Aguamenti. Damn – _aguamenti_."

Seamus feels water run down his face and he gasps at the cold and the sudden sting of pain. He reaches up to rub his eyes, the water helping to wash the blood away. When the water stops he can see again, though his eyes and the cuts on his face sting like a motherfucker.

"Well," he pants, shaking his head to get the water off, "at least we'll have matching face scars."

"Stop it," Malfoy says. "That's not funny."

It isn't really, seeing as Madam Pomfrey couldn't quite heal all of the gashes on Malfoy's face. He now looks like someone smashed a glass in his face five years ago.

"Rescuing me again?" Seamus asks, reaching up to gingerly touch his jaw as it twinges in protest. He leans back against the wall, feeling knackered.

"You should have just told them where Longbottom is," Malfoy says, and he sounds angry. It's a relief to hear. Malfoy's been looking more and more like a ghost as the days go by, his pale, scarred face looking vacant and wasted. It's nice to find that there's still a speck of something other than defeat in there somewhere.

"I don't know where he is," Seamus lies. "He's hiding, that's the point."

Malfoy breathes out, rubbing his face with a hand. He swallows thickly.

"This is getting…" he tries. "I just want it to be over."

"Don't we all," Seamus says. "But only if the good guys win."

"I don't care who wins," Malfoy says, his voice shaky. "I just want an end."

"Coward," Seamus says, and Malfoy flinches. He doesn't say anything else. It's the first time they've been alone together for any length of time since the Easter holidays. The silence stretches out and out, but neither of them leave.

"Maybe you should go and hide with him," Malfoy finally says at the floor, breaking the still silence of the corridor. "I've heard stuff."

Seamus feels a prickle go down his spine. "Heard what?"

Malfoy swallows. "That they're threatening to off Longbottom because his Gran is causing problems," he says, and pauses. "That if you keep giving them hassle they'll off you as an example."

"They wouldn't dare," Seamus says.

Malfoy lifts pale eyes to his. There's a scar perilously close to the left one, and Seamus can't help but think what a shame it would have been had the glass done anything to those grey orbs.

"They don't care anymore," Malfoy says, and deep down Seamus knows he's right. "It's getting close to something. Aunt Bella – she's gone frantic."

"_Aunt Bella,"_ Seamus shakes his head. "Some Aunt."

"Don't," Malfoy cuts in with surprising force and venom, voice tight. "Just _don't._ I call her Aunt Bella because that's who she is, but don't think for a second I want anything to do with her once this is over."

"Golly gosh, a backbone," Seamus says in not-altogether-mock surprise. "Impressive."

"Shut up," says Malfoy, but it's half-hearted at best.

Seamus pauses. "Thanks," he says, and Malfoy looks up. "For the heads up."

"So you'll go?" Malfoy asks quietly, and it's strangely touching – as well as convoluted – to see his concern.

Seamus shrugs, but he knows that a tactical withdrawal is pretty much his only option right now. Things are getting too dangerous, even for him. He wonders if he should ask Malfoy to go with him, but he already knows what the answer would be. Instead, he asks, "will you be alright without me?"

Malfoy gives him a look that's almost as good as a fifth-year-Malfoy-death-glare. "I'm not completely useless."

"I'll miss seeing your stupid face around," Seamus says, and the words echo off the stone.

Malfoy blinks and the glare goes away. "I'll miss hearing that stupid accent."

"You love my accent," Seamus says dismissively. "I'm the sexy Irish hero, remember?" Malfoy almost smiles at that and Seamus feels something odd go through him. They've been through a lot together in the past year, and he feels oddly connected to Malfoy in a way he never thought he would. When it comes down to it, he doesn't want to leave him here, not when it appears there's at least some good in him, if only a little bit.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he says.

Malfoy blinks, confused. "For what?"

Seamus hesitates, for once thinking about what he's going to say before he says it. He thinks about it for a moment, and then says it anyway. "For fucking you on the floor of a bathroom."

Malfoy stares at him. "Would you rather it have been in a four poster bed with rose petals and candles and music playing in the background?"

The comment is so bewildered it makes Seamus laugh. He claps a hand over his mouth and then promptly regrets it as he catches a cut on his chin. He ignores the pain. "I'll tell you what," he says, seized by impulse. "If we both make it, we'll do it in a four poster bed with rose petals and music and candles and fuckin' champagne. The works."

Malfoy stares at him, looking like he's torn between laughing and walking off. "Liar. If this all ends like you want it to, you wouldn't be seen dead with me."

"I would, you just watch me," Seamus says. "Just don't kill anyone."

Malfoy blinks at him. "Do you even know me?" he says flatly, and whilst anyone else might think Malfoy means that as a Death Eater it's his job to kill people, Seamus knows better. He knows that Malfoy means that he couldn't kill anyone even if he tried.

Seamus shrugs. "Don't want you to forget that you're actually a good guy whilst I'm not about."

Malfoy opens his mouth as if to argue, and then appears to think better of it. "You know I can't just…" he says awkwardly, the words lost somewhere before he can say them aloud.

"I know," Seamus says, and he reaches to put both his hands on Malfoy's cheeks and leans in to kiss him. Malfoy kisses him back, breath catching in his chest. They stay pressed together for as long as they can get away with, Malfoy's hands curled around Seamus's hips.

They break apart only when they need to breathe.

"Do what you need to do to stay safe," Seamus whispers. "But don't do anything if you think I might punch you in the face for it."

Malfoy swallows thickly. "What do I do if they force me to do something you'd punch me in the face for?"

Seamus strokes his thumbs across Malfoy's cheekbones. "Not the foggiest," he says quietly. "Just promise me you'll at least do the right thing when you can."

Malfoy is silent for a long time, and then he finally says the single word that Seamus has been hoping for. "Promise."

Seamus smiles tiredly. "There you go then. It'll work out just fine," he says, sounding very matter-of-fact. "Trust in the luck of the Irish."

Malfoy laughs thickly and then Seamus kisses him once more before he leaves, disappearing into the depths of the castle to find Neville.

* * *

Tension weighs heavily on the castle, permeating the very stones of the building and making the air they breathe feel ready to snap. The evenings grow lighter but it just makes everything worse, stark and open for all to see. It's as if they had hoped that the darkness would have gone away with the winter.

The only sanctuary is the Room of Requirement, safe and warm and hidden far out of reach. Seamus is grateful for the safety, but at the same time he feels like screaming, breaking out and _doing something_, not hiding away like a coward.

His heart thuds inside his chest and he presses his palm to his sternum, wondering if it'll still be beating when this is all over.

* * *

During the day Seamus throws himself into supporting the re-formed Dumbledore's army. It's like a game of cat and mouse against Snape, one in which they have a home-field advantage. Seamus swears down that the castle itself is on their side, helping them in their crusade to cause as much trouble for the management as possible.

At night, he lies in his hammock and listens to the quiet breathing all around him. He wonders where Dean is, if he's safe.

He wonders exactly the same about Malfoy. One night he wakes with a shudder after dreaming about him and Malfoy in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He's hard and aching and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and feels his stomach twist as he realises that in the dream they were face to face.

The next day he hears someone mention Malfoy's name, and his hands falter on his newspaper. It's Michael Corner and he sounds furious. Seamus hears the words '_curse_' and turns away, for once not wanting to listen.

He often wonders if Malfoy is still resisting in his own awkward way, or if he's just given in and has stepped up and taken his place with the Death Eaters. Even though they've kissed more times than he can count – even though they've had sex, for god's sake – Seamus honestly doesn't know what Malfoy will choose in the end.

It aches, deep in his chest, to think that he might have lost Malfoy already, and he wouldn't know a thing about it.

* * *

The room is in chaos; shouting and yelling and people running. Seamus's first thought is that the Carrows have finally found a way in, but then he registers Neville's excited voice and the buzz of animated conversation, moments before he hears the word '_Harry_.'

He pushes through the crowd and his heart leaps into the base of his throat and his stomach twist in a knot because _Harry is there_, right there, standing and talking to Neville and looking frantic. There's no mistaking him, not now, not ever. Not the glasses or the hair or the sense of purpose – the only thing hidden from view is the bloody scar, shielded by hair that looks as if it's not been properly cut in weeks. Mouth hanging open, Seamus spots Ron and Hermione too, and he can't bloody believe it; they just waltz in after how long and he's so fucking glad he'd kiss them all, even Hermione.

Excitement thrums through him. This is their chance, their chance to act. Everyone'll follow Harry if he asks it of them, and Seamus is ready to follow him without second thought or hesitation. After that debacle in fifth year Seamus has definitely learned to just trust him, even when he's acting crazy or being a moody arsehole -

And then Harry says they're not here to help, and Seamus feels the room go tense all over again. "You don't understand," Harry says. "We – we can't tell you. We've got to do it alone."

It's lucky that Neville is stood in front of Seamus because Seamus is suddenly so angry that he would happily lamp Harry one, just like he did to Malfoy all that time ago. Seamus doesn't give a fuck that Harry is the _Chosen One_ and is meant to be doing this _alone_, or whatever his bullshit heroic principles recommend he should do. For someone who supposedly hates all the special treatment and glory, at times he comes across as very unwilling to share. He hasn't been here, he's not got a fucking clue how hard they've been fighting, fighting so the others don't win, fighting for _him-_

Only a miracle would stop Seamus weighing in and giving Harry a mouthful or a good shaking. He thinks of first years being Crucio'd and the scars cutting across Malfoy's pale chest and steps forwards -

- just as the portrait opens and Dean and Luna topple through.

Seamus's heart stops, he's sure of it. For a wild moment he thinks he's mistaken and it's some other lankly bastard that's fallen through the portrait, even though he'd recognise him anywhere. But then Dean looks up and Seamus forgets all about Malfoy and his scars, and Harry and his sodding hero-complex that he can't quite make his mind up over. Without thinking or even considering an apology, he shoves Neville out of the way and runs to grab Dean in a hug, holding him so tightly that Dean probably can't breathe.

Dean hugs him back just as tightly and for once in his life Seamus knows he doesn't have to say anything. He does anyway.

"Where the fuck have you been?" he asks, voice muffled in Dean's shoulder.

"Hiding," Dean replies, laughing. The sound is thick with emotion. "I've been all over the place – with some blokes and some goblins, and then I found Harry and Ron and we ended up in Malfoy Manor-"

"I know, I'd heard," Seamus says, pulling back. "Malfoy told me he'd seen you."

Dean looks confused. "You spoke to Malfoy? Shite, Seamus – what happened to your face?"

Their conversation is cut short by the rising argument behind them. They pause and turn to listen; Neville is angrier than Seamus has seen in ages and even Michael Corner is wading in to snap at Harry. It's getting rapidly out of hand when the portrait swings open once again and more people stumble in, looking eager and excited.

Harry's resolve lasts about three minutes after that. Seamus has no idea what Ron mutters in Harry's ear but he's happily considering offering to get on his fucking knees for that lanky freckled git, because Harry takes a deep breath, nods and then relents.

Adrenaline thrums through Seamus's veins. This is it, he thinks as he listens to what Harry has to say, bolstered by Dean's presence at his side. This is their chance.

* * *

The castle shudders beneath their feet, the groaning and rumbling almost deafening. Seamus has lost track of Dean but he can't stop to think, he just shoots curse after curse down through the window onto the advancing horde of death eaters. A jet of light shoots his way in return, cracking against the stone of the window frame and showering him in malevolent orange sparks. He turns away, panting and trying to think where to go next.

He runs away from the window, ducking another jet of light which hits a portrait and sets it aflame, the canvas blackening and curling as the occupant screams and tries to flee into the next frame. He sees Parvati and Padma crouched by a window and goes to join them, but is distracted by a flash of unmistakable blond hair at the end of the corridor.

Sound roaring in his ears like he's underwater, he slows his pace and goes completely still, his entire world narrowing down to him and Malfoy because he's _there_ at the end of the corridor, moving out of sight too quickly for Seamus to do anything other than stumble and stare. All he can hear is his heart thudding in his ears like a drum, and somewhere beyond that muffled screams and shouts -

There's another deafening crack and he feels a hand grab his wrist, yanking him down to the floor out of the way of an ominous green bolt of light.

"Don't just stand there!" Parvati shrieks, and suddenly Seamus comes back to the moment, trying to refocus and help and _breathe_, but all he can think is why the fuck is Malfoy still in the castle and who is he fighting for? There's a sick feeling in the bottom of his stomach as he shoots a jinx down at a masked figure that is trying to force open a window, and he realises that he doesn't want to know.

* * *

And it's over.

Seamus feels like he could sleep for a week. His ear is still throbbing and his arm aches and all he wants to do is sit here, leaning back against the wall and clutching his wand in his hand. People that survived pass him by as they gravitate towards the Great Hall, and Seamus is strangely aware of himself in a way he hasn't been before. He's made it, he's still alive.

He wonders who else is.

He's trying not to think. Images of Neville with that sword and Harry squaring up to the Greatest Dark wizard of all time flicker through his mind, like scenes from a film he watched a long time ago. He remembers Lavender lying on the floor. Remembers the roar of the giants outside, the moment where he'd been convinced he'd been squashed flat by their stampeding feet. He remembers Luna's hands, pulling him to his feet with surprising strength. Remembers the look of determination on Harry's face, the strength that had radiated from him at every turn.

Seamus is honestly fucking fed up of thinking. He can save that for when they undoubtedly chuck them all into therapy. Instead, he wants to go and find Dean and tell him that he's an idiot, just because he's alive and he can. After that, he just wants to pass out on his face.

He struggles to push himself to his feet and limps along the corridor. He manages to smile as people nod at him, but for once in his life he doesn't want to talk. He wonders if he'll tell Dean about Malfoy. Maybe he should find out if Malfoy is alive or not before he does.

He walks slowly, stepping over broken stone and splintered wood. Pieces of metal are scattered everywhere, the plinths that had previously housed the suits of armour now empty. Seamus had been right; the castle _was_ on their side.

A black robed body is slumped on the staircase nearby. Seamus takes a cautious step closer and then spots a mark on the body's forearm, bent at a strange angle and sticking out awkwardly from the robes. He stares for a moment and then turns on his heel, planning to take the scenic route down to the Hall instead.

He passes through a shattered doorway and then stops dead in place. His heart clenches and twists inside his chest as he spots a lone figure sitting on the floor outside where the Room of Requirement should be. For a moment, Dean is forgotten.

Malfoy is curled up with his knees against his chest and his fingers around his ankles. His face is hidden from view. Seamus doesn't even consider leaving him there. He can't feel a lot other than the bone-numbing weariness that has settled in his limbs, but he feels _something_ in his chest to see that Malfoy is alive. In all honestly, he feels like laughing. Or maybe crying, he's not sure which right now.

"What the fuck are you doing up here?"

Malfoy looks up and Seamus's chest aches. His face is smeared with dirt and soot and his hair is filthy. As Seamus limps closer he sees tear tacks on Malfoy's cheeks, smearing through the grime. He looks lost.

"Crabbe died," he says blankly.

Seamus looks down at him. "A lot of people did."

He holds out a hand and Malfoy stares at it for a moment before he grasps it and lets Seamus pull him to his feet. He stumbles slightly and Seamus catches him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Why are you all sooty?" Seamus asks with a frown.

Malfoy shakes his head and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, smearing the muck even further. His eyes stand out amongst the dirt, bright and grey and exhausted. He doesn't want to talk about it, Seamus can tell. It's alright; Seamus probably doesn't want to hear about it.

They stand in silence for a long time. It's almost too much to take in, the fact that it's finally over. It's still raw and open; the dust is still settling even as they stand there, swirling through the light that pours in through broken windows and demolished battlements. The castle feels warm for the first time since they can't remember when, and Seamus finds himself ridiculously thankful that Malfoy is still here.

"So, did you kill anyone?"

The question is out of his mouth before his brain can tell him it's a fucking stupid thing to say. Malfoy blinks at him, eyes wide.

"No."

Seamus's shoulder slump in relief. "Well, thank fuck for that. I didn't know what side you were fighting for."

"Neither did I," Malfoy mumbles, and presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, exhausted.

"Did you – what did you do? Did you hurt anyone?" Seamus asks, reaching out to pull Malfoy's hands away from his face. He has to know, he needs to know.

"No, I-" Malfoy tries, his voice breaking. "I did a stupid thing. No - I tried to do a stupid thing – but I didn't, I didn't know what I was doing. I just wanted – wanted it to be over, and I just wanted my wand back but it was _Crabbe_, he just wasn't listening and now he's _dead._"

More tears run down Malfoy's face, cutting tracks through the smudged dirt. He looks at Seamus and shakes his head, still crying. "I just wanted my wand back," he says pitifully. "He's _still_ bloody got it."

Seamus fights the urge to touch him. "Well, you can ask him for it back, can't you? If you didn't actually do anything wrong…"

It's a question – a challenge – and Malfoy knows it. He swallows and wipes his face with the back of his hand again. Seamus waits, and then waits some more, breath held in his chest. If Malfoy refuses to go and ask Harry for his wand back then Seamus will know he's done something to be ashamed of, something that Seamus won't forgive him for. If he does have the guts to do it, then that means something else entirely.

"I – " Malfoy whispers, and then he nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I can," he says and Seamus feels like he's about to either burst or collapse in giddy relief. "If you come with me," Malfoy adds hurriedly, and Seamus smiles faintly; Malfoy might have a _bit_ of spine but Seamus doesn't really blame him for not wanting to face Harry alone. He wonders how that'll go down, him appearing with Malfoy in tow.

He finds he doesn't really give a fuck.

It's as if he always knew what that aching, twisting feeling in his chest was, but it would have been idiotic to acknowledge what it could be until now. Maybe now it's got a chance in hell of surviving.

"So, what was the deal?" he finally says. "Candles and music and rose petals?"

Malfoy looks up at him and laughs brokenly. More tears spill down his cheeks. "And champagne," he adds, voice catching.

Seamus smiles weakly and reaches out to slip a hand onto the back of Malfoy's neck. "I can't get over how relieved I am to know you're not dead," he says, and Malfoy laughs and cries harder. "Considering that less than a year ago I hated your guts."

"I know," he manages, wiping his face. "Me too."

Seamus doesn't know if that means Malfoy is glad that he's not dead or if he's glad that Seamus isn't dead. He finds he doesn't care. The sun is warm on his shoulders and the castle is quiet and all that matters in that single moment is that Seamus doesn't have to give up that flicker of something special he found amongst the ruins of a war.

He brings his mouth close to Malfoy's and hopes to whatever god is listening that he won't later find out that Malfoy's lying and he has done something terrible. He likes to believe that somehow he knows Malfoy didn't; all in all fighting hasn't really seemed to be his thing. Seamus thinks that he somehow brings out the best in Malfoy, managing to break through the layers of spite and cowardice to find someone else beneath.

What he thinks is enough for now.

"Thank you," Malfoy whispers, and Seamus doesn't know for what but Malfoy closes the last of the space between them and kisses him gently.

Seamus feels his heart still thudding along inside his chest, smiles, and kisses him back.


End file.
